


The Artist and His Muse

by deathhaul



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bottom Hannibal Lecter, Bottom Will Graham, Breathplay, Cannibalism, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Top Hannibal Lecter, Top Will Graham, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, also i changed the age gap to only 3 years because i have that power, hannibal is an art minor and will is a still life model, i know it will Get explicit but for now rating is mature, tags will be updated when more chapters are posted, the more i write the more i realize i think i need a massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:14:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 38,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26290210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathhaul/pseuds/deathhaul
Summary: "Hannibal never assumed he would indulge himself in romance. Maybe a night here or there in someone else’s sheets- never his own, and always slipping away before the morning sun broke through. He never let those nights bleed into romance, he didn’t have to force himself not to let them. He would keep his indulgences for his talented hands and teeth only. That is what he assumed anyway, before he met Will Graham."
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 30
Kudos: 208





	1. Chapter 1

The only thing Hannibal expected to indulge upon during his college years overseas in America were some kills, experimenting with displaying his victims, and nice meals; honing his craft. Hannibal didn’t expect to leave Florence anytime soon, but when his pencil drawings captured the eyes of a full university scholarship, he changed his tune. He managed to stretch that scholarship to cover a medical major, using art as his minor. 

After scoring high, but not alarmingly high, marks on all the tests shoved his way, he was officially a student. He was now well into his junior year and even at 23 he holds himself with a refined elegance past his years. 

Hannibal never assumed he would indulge himself in romance. Maybe a night here or there in someone else’s sheets- never his own, and always slipping away before the morning sun broke through. He never let those nights bleed into romance, he didn’t have to force himself not to let them. He would keep his indulgences for his talented hands and teeth only. 

That is what he assumed anyway, before he met Will Graham. 

* * *

It is the end of Hannibal’s class- ‘Drawing the Human Body’, and he is packing up his things, carefully sliding drawings into his folder. Being a surgeon in the making he found the class quite boring, but a requirement none the less. He watches the model step down from the pedestal he was standing on and begin to dress.

Hannibal finds it rather revolting the way his fellow classmates look at the model, even in their 20’s they acted like immature high school students. He catches his eyes wandering away from his subject to stare at the eyes of his classmates, finding the way their eyes run over the model immodest. He spends half the class imagining new, brutal ways to remove a victim’s eyes. It takes quite a level head to stand nude in front of a room of people and have them study your body. He knows he couldn’t do it. 

Hannibal is sliding his brown leather school bag over his shoulder when an opposite movement catches his eye. He watches a student weave his way through the crowd leaving the classroom, to walk inside it. He finds himself glancing over his shoulder as he walks to the door. The student is one he hasn’t seen before. Not that Hannibal makes it a pastime to notice people, the ones he does notice are not worth his attention. The student sets his backpack down and sits on the pedestal where the other model once was. He tugs a worn book free and starts to read. 

Hannibal peers at him through the glass window beside the door, pretending to check his phone. He looks only a couple years younger than himself, probably a junior like himself. He brushes a lock of hair behind his ear; his hair a dark brown fluffy mass of loose curls. The model is wearing denim jean overalls with a white shirt underneath, cut just short enough so a sliver of skin is revealed. 

Being a nude model means he must take great care of himself, his skin is likely very soft. Hannibal snaps his eyes away from him at that thought and turns to walk down the hallway. He spends his entire walk to his car both mentally chastising himself and convincing himself he is just hungry. 

And he is, but not for the pretty young man he just saw. At least, not in the way he is used to. 

That night he turned down many kills; parties of neighboring colleges making easy hunting grounds, almost too easy. He didn’t realize what he was looking for until he was looking down at the man he just killed, lying bloody in his own apartment. 

Someone younger than him stares up at him with dead eyes, his brown curls artfully framing his face. 

It takes him longer than usual to harvest the organs he wants to use for dinner, finding himself shaken by the knowledge he chose his victim based on appearance. Hannibal doesn’t choose victims based on appearance, he bases it on rudeness. And it is quite easy to fit anyone into that category.

The young man who is flayed and gutted at his feet fit into his category of rudeness because he was too drunk, too flirty with Hannibal; which made the kill all that easier. He had convinced the student to let him walk him to his dorm, claiming he was too drunk to drive, all the while trying not to sneer at the way his body was being sexually stared at. The student was far too drunk to notice the small cooler Hannibal was carrying and far too horny that Hannibal didn’t even have to ask to enter his apartment. 

Hannibal killed him the second he placed his hands on his body; no one below Hannibal’s status gets to touch him. He could still feel the warmth of unworthy hands touching the skin under his shirt as he snapped the man's neck. 

While this one lacked the fear he normally cherishes, the organs will remain untainted by the bitterness that fear brings. Hannibal stares down at him, he wants to chop off his hands, but decides against it. A corpse missing hands means he was punished for touching something; a motive. He doesn’t like to leave clues that point towards a motive. 

He turns his knife in his hand and leans over the body, starting to cut his skin away from his meat. Hannibal was so clouded by the rage of being touched that he didn’t get the chance to savor the kill. The easy, boring kill left a dull void; he needed to fill it.

He leaves the body sitting in his chair, his skin draped over him like a blanket. Hannibal, just for fun, leaves the face skin stabbed into the back of his bedroom door with one of the victims knives. He smiles as he slips out, unseen, imagining the surprise that face will leave whoever is unlucky enough to find his body. He walks to where his car is parked and places his cooler, now full of ice and his future dinner, in his passenger seat. 

He plays Bach from his radio as he drives home, wondering what to make with the kidneys he pulled from him, hoping excessive alcohol consumption won’t affect the taste too badly. 

“If so,” Hannibal muses out loud to himself. “Soaking it in red wine shall pair nicely.” He smiles fondly as he drives, mentally deciding what ingredients he should use. Figuring the red wine that man's kidneys will be drenched in will be more expensive than anything he had ever drank. 

* * *

“Your work is incredible,” Mr. Hayworth, Hannibal’s ‘Drawing the Human Body’ professor says as he flips through Hannibal’s portfolio. “My one critique would be that you appear to be lacking drawings of men.” He sets the folder down on his desk and looks at Hannibal, who is seated across from him. “It is clear by the women you draw you are quite talented with the human form, I assume that is your medical major slipping in.” 

Hannibal nods, he is half correct. 

“So,” Hannibal starts. “To have a more complete body of work I should draw more men?”

“It would make your work as a whole seem more balanced, entering the art scene as a new artist means you should have a good variety. And once you become established then you can focus on a niche.” 

“That makes sense,” he muses. “It has always been easier for me to draw women.”

“Many men feel that way.” Hannibal nods, even though his reason is not what Mr. Hayworth assumes. Hannibal finds it easier to draw women due to his lack of attraction to them. He didn’t want to stare at a nude male model and sketch him while feeling aroused, it felt wrong being aroused by someone who had no consent in the matter. 

Hannibal may find pleasure in killing and dismembering people but he drew the line at feeling like a sexual predator. Because of this he didn’t draw many nude men in his youth, until he could fully control his thoughts. He would rather stare at the model and wonder what the inside of their flesh would look like or how their organs would taste then stare at them and think about having sex with them.

“I find it challenging drawing a nude model within a classroom setting.” Hannibal says, running his fingers absentmindedly over the desk. “It was always easier to draw a model in a private setting.”

“The models that I hire for my classes all offer individual sessions, for a price of course.” Money was no obstacle for Hannibal. His professor turns and opens a file cabinet. “I’ll get you the business card for the male model of your section.”

“Actually,” Hannibal starts, before he can stop himself. His mind was suddenly overcome with images of the unknown model that had been haunting him and influencing his selection of victims. “I’ve drawn him before, I’d like a model I haven’t studied yet. A fresh canvas if you will. Maybe the one from the section after mine?” The professor nods and pulls out a business card, handing it to Hannibal. 

The name ‘Will Graham’ is there to greet Hannibal as he studies the card, he slides it carefully into his suit jacket pocket.

“Thank you, and for your thoughts about my work.” He says as he stands, sliding his portfolio back into his bag.

“Will is in my next class, I will give him a heads up a student will be contacting him.” Hannibal nods as he heads to the door. “And Hannibal?” He turns and looks back. “I am aware you are pursuing a medical field. Surgeon, correct?” Hannibal nods. “I do hope your art does not get lost in the process, you are a very talented artist.”

“Thank you, sir. I can assume you my art will never get lost.” He can’t help the smile that crosses his face before he leaves Mr. Hayworth’s office. His mind isn’t thinking about the drawings his hands create, it is thinking about the broken bodies his hands leave behind.

* * *

Hannibal is lounging on the couch in his apartment as he swirls his wine in his glass, studying Will’s business card- a thick paper with clean black text. He runs his thumb over the raised letters of his name as he takes a sip of wine. Once he digs his phone from his pocket he types the number listed and presses the phone to his ear. It rings twice before a voice bleeds from the other line.

“This is Will,” the voice says. Hannibal swallows his sip of wine, smiling softly.

“Hello Will,” he says. “I am calling to ask about your availability for individual modeling sessions.”

“Oh, okay. Just a second.” Hannibal can hear the sound of papers shifting over the line.“Are you a student?”

“Yes, a junior.” He can imagine Will nodding on the other line.

“Well, I am pretty open for sessions, do you have a project deadline?”

“Not for what you would be helping me with. I am working on expanding my portfolio, I was told I need more variety.” Hannibal explains.

Will hums softly listening to his words and Hannibal takes another sip of wine. “I should be free after my classes tomorrow, which will be after three.” Hannibal writes down ‘after three pm’ in his calendar. “If you live on campus I can meet you at your dorm.”

“I don’t live technically on campus, but it isn’t far. Wouldn’t you like to meet somewhere public first?”

“If you’re the student Mr. Hayworth told me about I shouldn’t have anything to worry about. Or do I?” Will adds the last line playfully and Hannibal smiles.

“I am, and no you do not. Would this number be good to text you my address?”

“Yeah, we can discuss payment when we meet. It will be easier once I know what you’re looking for. And your name?”

“Hannibal Lecter.” The sound of a pen against paper whispers through the phone. “I will expect to see you around 3 then.”

“See you then, hope I can be a good fit for you.”

Hannibal smiles, his eyes wandering over to the rest of the liver heating in his oven, the one he took from his Will Graham doppelgänger victim. “I’m sure you will be, goodbye Will.” He swallows the rest of his wine as he texts Will his address, before setting his phone on the table. He stands, grabbing his oven mitts and removes his dish from the oven. The aroma of the meat, soaked in wine, fills the room. 

He eats his dinner at his kitchen table, while reviewing his notes for one of the many medical classes he feels he doesn’t need. Chopin plays from his phone and he puts another forkful in his mouth, underlining a sentence about the heart. As Hannibal swallows down the false Graham’s meat he wonders how the real one will taste, he assumes sweet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aka I saw that one picture of Hugh Dancy when he was in college and this happened.  
> I intend updates to be posted each Friday! Tags will be added with new updates; comments and kudos appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

Hannibal had spent the morning cleaning his apartment, not that it is ever messy, just double checking to make sure everything was hidden away. Hannibal is currently sitting on his couch, his ankle placed on his other thigh, skimming through a book. He spun a pen around his fingers and would pause to underline a section every so often. He flicks his eyes down to his watch, which reads a little past 3, Will should be here anytime. Hannibal got through about fifty pages before a knock at his door pulled him from his concentration. 

“Just a moment,” Hannibal says as he places his book on the coffee table and his pen methodically next to it, making sure they are evenly lined up before walking over to the door. Hannibal opens the door and offers a warm smile at Will. “Welcome.” He steps out of the way so Will could walk inside. He was dressed in dark blue jeans, a flannel that balances between orange and brown, and beat up converse. 

“I’m gonna be honest I thought you were pranking me.” He chuckles softly, looking around Hannibal’s apartment. The kitchen and living room flowed together in an open floor plan and only the bathroom and his bedroom are behind closed doors. 

“And why did you think that?” Hannibal asks as he closes the door.

“Because this is a really, really nice apartment. Or maybe mine is just shitty.” Will flashes a smile over at Hannibal. Without the obstruction of the window he was once peering through he can see Will’s striking eyes, the faint stubble of a beard, and the way his fingers pick loosely at his cuticles. “Anyway, what are you looking for from me?” Hannibal motions to sit and sits down on the couch, giving Will the choice between the couch or the chair beside it. Will sets his bag by the coffee table and chooses to sit beside Hannibal on the couch. 

“Full body,” Hannibal starts, he watches Will pull out a small, black booklet and a pen from his backpack. “If it makes it easier, here is some of my recent work.” He hands Will one of the sketchbooks he uses for his class on the human body. “Mostly unpolished work.”

Will tucks his pen into the book, setting it in his lap before gingerly taking the sketchbook. “Holy shit,” Will whispers softly as he flips through the pages. Normally swearing was something that offended Hannibal, but those words slipping from Will’s lips felt less rude. “You consider these unpolished?” He chuckles as he looks at Hannibal’s drawings. “These are incredible, no wonder you’re an art major.”

“Art minor, actually.” Hannibal corrects. Will’s eyebrows arch towards his hair hairline and he looks over at Hannibal.

“Seriously? Are you one of those people who think they’re art is terrible because…” He trails off as he looks back at the sketches. 

“I’m a medical major, I plan to go to medical school after graduation to become a surgeon.” Will nods a little.

“Well that will certainly pay more than being an artist.” Hannibal laughs softly and takes his sketchbook back from Will as he hands it to him. “So,” he picks back up his book and pen. “Full body, any specific body part?”

“No,” Hannibal says as he hears the soft pen strokes of Will writing against the paper. “I was told I should add more men to my portfolio, so, that is what I’m doing.”

“If you have the human body class you draw full body male models.”

“I do,” Hannibal starts, catching Will’s eyes flicking over at him. “I find it easier to draw models without a crowded room.”

“Understandable. Are you going to want me to undress or will that make you uncomfortable?” He writes another note and looks over at Hannibal, his face showing no embarrassment.

“It won’t,” Hannibal meets his eye contact. “A good artist shouldn’t be uncomfortable with the human body, it is counter productive. Undress to your desired level of comfort.”

“Mr. Lecter-” 

“Hannibal, please.” 

“Hannibal,” Will continues. “I am comfortable fully naked. If that is how you want me that is what I will do, after all it is your money. Speaking of which, I have a rate of $11 per hour.” He studies Hannibal’s face, looking for an indication of him about to be bartered down. 

“Cash or check?” Will face shifts into quick surprise, proving he was used to lowering his price. 

“Cash, please, if you are able.” Hannibal smiles and nods. He would have paid $20 an hour if Will asked, probably even more. 

“Is our first session today or was this simply to see if I am a good fit? Either way I’ll pay you for your time.”

“We can start today, you seem more professional than the other students I’m used to working with.” Will stands, fingers unbuttoning the top few buttons of his flannel. “Where do you want me?” Hannibal stands as well, running his eyes over his living room. 

“Would you rather be sitting or standing?”

“Hannibal, this is your time. What do you want me to do?” Hannibal walks around his living room table and stands a couple feet away, judging the distance from the couch.

“About here will be good.” Hannibal steps away so Will can stand in the place he once was. His flannel already all the way unbuttoned, hanging open on his chest. “Drawing you in an unposed position may be a good way to start, if you have availability I would like to have more than one session.” Hannibal walks over to his desk and gathers another one of his sketchbooks, his drawing pencils, and a scalpel before returning to sit on his couch. When his eyes land back on Will he is completely undressed besides for his underwear, that are flatteringly tight. 

“I should be able to make that happen, since it is early in the semester I don’t have many other clients. Everyone procrastinates their drawings until the last minute. Fully nude?” He asks the question as if he was asking about the weather.

“If you don’t mind.” Will slides them off and stands before Hannibal naked. “May I position you myself, or does that cross a line.”

“Feel free.” Hannibal stands and walks over to him. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you where not to touch.” Hannibal chuckles softly and shakes his head.

“Do you have to tell people that?”

“Sometimes, being a nude model isn’t the safest job out there.” Hannibal stands in front of him, running his eyes smoothly over Will’s body. 

“I can imagine.” He says as he walks behind him, resting his hands softly on Will’s shoulders to move them back slightly. Adjusting him to stand proudly. “You are very tense, you should get a massage.” Hannibal steps back in front of him to look at his adjustment. 

“You think I can afford a good massage?” Hannibal knows his hands are talented enough and that he has enough knowledge of the human body that he could loosen all the knots in his shoulders easily. But he decides against offering his hands to Will.

“Well,” He starts as he walks back to the couch and sits down. “I am notorious for over tipping.” A small smile bleeds across Will’s face as he looks at Hannibal. “And I am not drawing your face, at least not today, so feel free to position yourself whatever way is the most comfortable.”

He can feel Will’s eyes on him as he flips to a blank page of his sketchbook, picking up his pencil and starting to lightly draw. 

“And if you ever need a break just let me know, although, this shouldn’t take me long. But I would like to draw you front and back, as a baseline.”

“I am very good at holding poses, otherwise I wouldn’t do this.” The only sounds between their words is Hannibal’s soft pencil on the paper and the subtle ticking of his watch.

“It still isn’t good for your body, I’m sure some clients have bent you into uncomfortable positions before.” Will’s cheeks darken for the first time of the day and Hannibal swallows down a smile. He presses the timer on his phone and spends that time sketching Will’s body. Flicking his eyes back and forth from the flesh and blood before him to his drawing.

“Why do you want to become a surgeon?” He was busy staring at Will’s chest, being able to see his ribs slightly under his skin. His mind was swimming with the meals he would make, not with Will but _for_ Will. He tells himself he just wants to fatten him, he would taste too tough as he currently is. 

Hannibal hums softly at his question, pretending to be musing over it. “I found I was always good with my hands. Very steady and precise, I figured I should use them to help people. Fixing people’s bodies feels more fulfilling than drawing art.”

“But art is clearly your passion.” His eyes flick up, looking at Will through his fringe that has fallen in front of his face. “Otherwise you wouldn’t bother hiring a model out of your own pocket to round out your portfolio.” Hannibal shrugs uncharacteristically and continues with his drawing. 

After his sketchbook page is full of Will’s naked body, front and back, he stops the timer on his phone. 

“One hour and forty minutes.” Hannibal announces as Will is getting dressed. “I’ll round it to two, it will be easier that way.” He pulls his wallet from his back pocket and flips through his cash, pulling out $25. Unable to be exact due to his lack of one dollar bills. 

“That’s not bad, you’re quite quick.” Will is sitting on the couch now fully clothed, pulling on his socks and shoes. “Thank you.” Will says as he takes the money from Hannibal, his brow furrows as he counts it. “You may be good at drawing but you’re terrible at math. You’re over by three dollars.”

“I don’t have one dollar bills, don’t worry about it.” Will pauses a little holding the money before he puts it into his wallet. “I’m sure you can tell by my apartment that I am not lacking in that aspect.”

“Well, thank you. You don’t always have to round up though.”

“I was merely tipping you for your good service.” Will laughs and stands up. 

“Can I see?” He gestures to the sketchbook and Hannibal nods, handing it to him. “Wow,” Will breathes out as he studies the drawings of himself. “Your level of detail... it’s quite impeccable.” His eyebrows furrow together slightly. “Am I really this skinny? Well I guess microwave ramen isn’t a good diet.” Hannibal practically cringes at Will’s eating habits as Will simply chuckles. He can’t ask Will to stay for dinner, at least not yet. 

“I will contact you about another session.”

“Of course.” Will stands as he slings his bag over his shoulder. “I look forward to working with you again, Hannibal.” Hannibal smiles as Will walks to the door.

“As do I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to post two chapters at once, normally will update each Friday like I previously stated.


	3. Chapter 3

Hannibal’s fingers seize the throat of his victim, squeezing tighter and tighter. He looks down at the man beneath him, pinned down by Hannibal’s body weight, his knee digging into the bottom edge of the man’s ribs. His eyelids flutter with the lack of air getting to his lungs, a quiet gasping leaving his dry lips. Hannibal slides his hands off the man’s neck but stays pinning him to the ground.

“Please,” He begs, his voice horse. The color slowly returns to his face as he lays beneath Hannibal, drawing in shaky breaths, they are both on the floor of the victim’s dorm. “Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.” His shaken blue eyes lock with Hannibal’s, he is smaller than Hannibal, but with enough fat on his bones to provide a good meal. “I have money.”

“Your money will not satisfy me.” He says simply, enjoying the thrill of toying with his food. “Do you think this is what robbers do?” Tears well in the man’s eyes, trailing down his cheeks. 

“Anything you want you can have,” his fear stricken eyes flick to his bed and back at Hannibal. “Anything, please.” Hannibal runs a gloved finger over the man’s tear stained cheek, an interested smile on his face. 

“You are quite a charming thing aren’t you.” A brightness of hope flashes in his eyes, it won’t last long. “But if I wanted that for you I would have taken another approach. However, there is something you can offer me.”

“You can have it, please, just let me go.” Hannibal clicks his tongue softly, he can already imagine how bitter his meat will taste. 

“I simply cannot do that. You see, what I want from you are your organs.” A wave of horror flashes in his eyes and Hannibal clamps a hand over his mouth, his other forearm crushing his windpipe. He stares down at his eyes, watching the fear slowly subside and death wash over them. 

Those lovely eyes; just like Will's.

* * *

“Hannibal?” The sound of his name causes Hannibal to blink the memory of his most recent kill from his mind. He focuses back on the voice, Will is standing before him only in jeans. This was their fourth session, Hannibal decided to focus on a portrait that began at Will’s waist. He was finding himself easily distracted; it almost unnerved him. 

“Sorry,” he breathes out, continuing to finish drawing some details of Will’s neck. 

“Distracted by my beauty?” Will asks playfully and Hannibal looks up at Will through his lashes, returning a playful smile his way. “I asked where you are from, originally. I’ve never heard an accent like yours before.”

“I am from Lithuania, that is where I was born.” He flicks his eyes back to Will’s face then his drawing, adding more details to his eyes. He had finished the drawing about thirty minutes ago, but he can always add more details. “But I moved here from Florence, I spent most of my life there.”

“And what brings you here?” Will asks, while managing to keep his head still. 

“The school, actually.” Will's eyes flash with curiosity but his face remains calm. “They offered me a scholarship for a medical degree, and I accepted.”

“I didn’t know they did medical scholarships.”

“Few and far between.” Hannibal lies. “I didn’t expect to leave Florence so soon but it felt right. Give me about ten minutes and I should be done.”

“Take your time, you’re helping me procrastinate working on my paper.” Hannibal chuckles softly, seeing a window of opportunity opening. 

“I know how I could help you procrastinate further.” He finishes the final details of Will’s curls, he wonders what it would feel like to run his fingers through his hair. 

His mind collides with images of crashing Will’s beautiful head against the sidewalk and then gingerly cradling it afterwards. He blinks the thought away. “I accidentally bought too much meat and I’d hate for it to go to waste. You can stay for dinner, if you would like.” He finishes the last pencil stroke and stops the timer on his phone, holding up the screen so Will could see it. 

Will breaks his pose and walks over to pick up his glasses from the table, studying the phone.

“Almost four hours? Didn’t feel like it.” He bends down and pulls on his light brown sweater, tucking it lazily into his jeans. “What would you be cooking?”

“Steak.” Hannibal says as he pulls $45 from his wallet, placing it on the table. “I have a wide variety of fresh produce so I can alter the dish to your tastes.” 

“Can’t remember the last time I had a good steak.” He chuckles taking the money from the table, pocketing it without counting. 

_He trusts easily_ , Hannibal thinks. 

“You’re going to make me feel bad, Hannibal.” Hannibal closes his sketchbook and looks up at Will, holding a smile on his lips that asks for explanation. “First you overpay me and then you feed me a nice dinner? I’m starting to think you don’t have pure intentions.” The last sentence rolls off his tongue in a whisper and Hannibal’s smile widens as he stands, walking into his kitchen. 

“Is that what you think?” He casts the question over his shoulder, he had sat the meat out to de-thaw hours earlier. 

“Not really.” Will follows him into the kitchen, leaning against the countertop. “Just messing with you.” Hannibal opens his fridge and spies his selection of greens and smiles as he thinks about feeding Will.

* * *

“This smells wonderful,” Will says as a plate of ‘steak’ and roasted asparagus is placed in front of him. “Thank you, Hannibal.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he places his plate on the table. “What would you like to drink?”

“Do you have alcohol?” Hannibal chuckles at the question. 

“Yes, only wine though.” Will gives him a slightly disappointed glance. “Not to offend, but if you believe you do not like wine it is probably because you haven’t had good wine.” Hannibal notices that Will hasn’t started eating yet; he is waiting for him. 

“You’re probably right, I’ll try a glass. Only if you promise not to be offended if I don’t like it.” Hannibal pulls a wine bottle and gets out two glasses, walking over to the table. 

“Sounds like a fair deal,” he uncorks the bottle and pours a glass, handing it to Will. He has to stop himself from wincing at the improper way Will holds the glass. “How old are you, Will?”

“Are you going to card me?” Hannibal smiles softly as he pours one for himself.

“Just making simple conversation.” He sits down across from Will, inhaling the scent of his wine before taking a slow sip. 

“I’m 20, almost legal though.” Will takes a sip of wine and Hannibal studies his expression, as if he is trying to decide if he likes it or not. 

“If you don’t like it that is alright.”

“I’m not sure…” Will trails off, taking another sip. “It’s an acquired taste I guess, but you are right, this does taste better than the wine I had tried before.” Will sets the glass down and picks up his silverware when he notices Hannibal doing the same. 

“Well I should hope so,” Hannibal says, cutting apart a section of his meat. “It was almost $200.” Will noticeably blinks at him, as if smacked by the price tag. 

“Damn.” He whispers softly before putting a bite of one of Hannibal’s victims in his mouth, Hannibal made sure to pick meat from a victim who would taste sweet. Will swallows down his bite and he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, wiping away the red stain the wine left behind. 

“So let me get this straight,” Will starts, Hannibal takes a bite as he listens to him. “You’re rich, or at least very well off. Smart, you have to be as a med major. An artist, _and_ you can cook well?” Hannibal smiles softly, not able to help indulging in the flattery. “And somehow you happen to find yourself single?” 

Hannibal’s eyebrow arches and he looks at Will inquisitively. “What makes you say that?”

“All of the models in your recent work are ones the school hires,” Will says before taking another bite. “If you were dating someone you would be using them as a model, meaning extra drawings. When I dated artists I posed for them often, and if you had a boyfriend you would be drawing him instead of me.” 

Hannibal sips his wine and stares at Will over the glass, almost impressed. “And what makes you say that?”

“Straight men don’t find it that easy to look at naked men, I’ve modeled in classes before. It gets really easy to spot who is into men and who isn’t.”

“Do I make you feel uncomfortable?”

“Oh, no. That’s not what I mean.” Hannibal cocks his head slightly, watching Will as he places another bite in his mouth. “I don’t know.” He breathes out. “It’s just hard to explain. And don’t worry about making me uncomfortable, if you made me uncomfortable I wouldn’t have sessions with you. Much less make small talk while you draw me, or stay and eat with you afterwards. If you made me uncomfortable you would know.”

“Just making sure.” He feels Will’s eyes lingering on him as he dips his head to cut into another section of flesh. “I can assume you don’t have a boyfriend as well?”

Will nods his head, his mouth preoccupied. “You’re right,” he says after he swallows. “I don’t have a boyfriend, or a girlfriend for that matter. Which you think I would, maybe that is just a stereotype.”

“That all models have partners all the time?”

“That all models are sluts.” Will shrugs a little, being focused on his food he misses Hannibal’s shocked expression. He hides it away quickly and continues to eat.

“What is your major, Will?” he asks, their plates now sit before them empty. Hannibal watches how Will’s throat moves when he swallows his wine. He could imagine his hands there, they would fit so nicely. 

“I don’t have one, not yet anyway. I’m only a sophomore so I don’t have to decide yet. You’re a junior, right?” Hannibal nods, Will must have caught a surprised glint in Hannibal’s eyes. “I had a gap year between high school and college, I don’t come from money. So it took some time before I could afford tuition.” Hannibal’s next swallow of wine is harder than the others, he watches Will’s face trying to decide if he was offended by the way Hannibal lived lavishly and practically threw money away. 

“Have any thought of what you would like to do?”

“I go back and forth often,” he sips his wine. “I swing between becoming a cop, going into criminal justice, and dropping out and becoming a boat mechanic.” Will chuckles humorlessly at the last bit. _Law enforcement, interesting,_ Hannibal thinks.

“So, you are just completing general requirements and then going into a major?” Will nods and sets his empty wine glass on the table. Will slides his phone out of his pocket and looks at the time. 

“I should probably get going. It’s getting dark and there were those murders at CC.” Hannibal nods, the last two victims he killed he left to resurface publicly. Both being students from the neighboring community college. 

“Grisly stuff. We studied the murders in one of my anatomy classes.” Seeing his art projected on the big screen in a lecture hall almost gave Hannibal as much thrill as killing them. “I’ll walk you to your car. You are right, it is quite dark.”

Will smiles as he pulls on his coat, slinging his backpack over his shoulders. “Such a gentleman.” If those words ran off anyone else’s tongue Hannibal would have assumed he was being mocked, but not when they ran off Will’s tongue. The entire time he pulls on a jacket and grabs his keys he thinks about what Will’s tongue would taste like, feel like.

He locks his apartment door and walks with Will down the hallway, down the stairs, and out into the parking lot. “Which is yours?”

“That beat up blue one.” Will replies as he walks to it, Hannibal spends the walk there memorizing the make and model. “Another session tomorrow? Same time?”

“Tomorrow is Saturday,” Hannibal muses out loud. “You can probably come earlier, I wake quite early so send me a message when you are on your way over.” 

“I don’t wake up early, unless I don’t sleep, so don’t expect me there before ten.” Hannibal smiles as he watches Will unlock his car, tossing his bag into the backseat. Will opens the drivers door and turns to face Hannibal, his eyes flick rapidly over his facial features. Hannibal can smell wine and human flesh on his lips. 

Hannibal can’t decide if he should kiss him, strangle him, or a mixture of both; he decides against all of them. 

“Then I will see you after ten. Have a good night, Will.” Hannibal suppresses a grin watching slight disappointment wash over Will’s face. 

“You too, Hannibal.” He offers him a forced smile and slides into his car, waving as he pulls away. Hannibal slides his phone out of his pocket and quickly types Will’s license plate number into his notes app. Hannibal smiles as he walks back into his apartment, replaying the disappointment that washed over Will’s eyes in his mind. Which, for some reason, is more enjoyable for him to relive than watching the life drain from a victim’s eyes. 

Hannibal loves toying with his food. 


	4. Chapter 4

Hannibal thinks about Will in his morning shower, which bothers him, mainly because of what he is thinking about. If he just wanted sex from Will he wouldn’t be toying with him like he is. He is quite sure he could have gotten him into his bed last night, if the disappointment in Will’s eyes was about what he thought it was about. He is unsure why sex isn’t the only thing he wants, confused by the betrayal of his emotions. 

Hannibal sips his coffee in his kitchen- clean shaven and hair still slightly damp. He is only wearing a thin white button up that clings to his toned body, black jeans, and a simple leather belt. He normally didn’t dress like this, but he figured he would have plenty of time to change into something more suitable before Will arrives. He checks his watch as he washes his mug out in the sink, it reads almost 8:30 in the morning. He walks over to his kitchen table, which is covered in medical textbooks and notebooks.

Half studying for an exam, half studying for his next kill. Hannibal sits at his table and picks up his pen, rewriting his notes in Lithuanian. He found the more languages he rewrites his notes in the further they stuck in his brain. He is halfway through rewriting his exam study guide when there is a knock at the door, his brow furrows, and he looks down at his watch. He was writing for only about 20 minutes. 

“Will?” He calls from the table. 

“Yeah,” Will replies from behind the door. Hannibal’s eyes flick over his outfit and he attempts to smooth out his hair.

“It’s open.” He dips his head down to write another line as he hears the door open, mentally cursing himself for not getting properly dressed right after his shower.

“I bring a peace offering, for being early.” Hannibal sets his pen down and looks up. Will is wearing a grey thick sweater, dark blue jeans, and the worn converse he always wears. In his hand is a cardboard coffee holder, which supports two cups. Hannibal closes his notebook and walks over, taking the paper cup Will hands him. 

“You didn’t have to do this.” Hannibal says, as he holds the cup, even though he just finished his own coffee he would never turn down Will's offer. He is caught off guard by the smell of his coffee, almost exactly how he makes it. Hannibal runs a hand through his hair again, the memory of when he made them coffee during one of their sessions strikes him. 

Will had seen him make his coffee once and remembered enough to almost accurately recreate it. Hannibal blows softly on it and takes a sip. “But thank you.”

“I figured I should try to level the score. Ya know, you did feed me steak last night.” Hannibal smiles softly, watching Will wander around his living room. 

“Is this a game we are embarking on?” Hannibal asks as he walks over to stand by Will, who is looking out Hannibal’s big windows. “Who can out host the other?”

Will laughs, casting a wide smile over at Hannibal. “You’d win.” When he looks back out the window Hannibal can see his dark under eyes.

“Did you sleep at all last night, Will?” Will sighs after a sip of coffee. 

“Probably five hours, on and off. I…” He trails off to take another sip. “I have an overactive imagination.” Will continues. “Which leads to bad nightmares.” 

“Will, if you are too tired for our session I understand. You could have called to cancel.” Will looks over at Hannibal, his expression saying what his mouth will not. 

_I wanted to see you._

“It’s fine,” he takes another sip and then downs the rest of his coffee. “Five hours is actually pretty good for me.” Hannibal bites the corner of his lip so he doesn’t explain how unhealthy that is, he is sure Will already knows. He can feel Will’s eyes wandering over him, probably assessing his state of dress. Hannibal looks out the window, letting Will look at him. His gaze is warm and Hannibal lets himself be warmed by it. 

“Shall we?” Will says, he walks over and sets his empty coffee cup on the living room table. 

“We shall.” Hannibal turns and follows Will, setting his cup beside Will’s. “I’d like you on the floor,” Will arches an eyebrow looking over at him, but tugs his sweater over his head anyway. “Please.” Hannibal adds. 

“I’m assuming a more detailed pose?” He asks, hands undoing his jean button and zipper. 

Hannibal nods, trying not to stare at Will’s quick fingers. “I am finalizing what concept I plan to submit for the school’s art contest.”

“What is the theme this year?” He slips his shoes off and his jeans soon follow. 

“Greek mythology.”

“Interesting, any idea what you are doing?”

“I was pondering over the story of Achilles and Patroclus as my inspiration. Do you know it?”

Will shakes his head. “No, not really.”

"Achilles wished all Greeks would die, so he and Patroclus could conquer Troy alone. Took divine intervention to bring them down." Hannibal smiles as he speaks. Will removes his final piece of clothing, standing naked before him.

“You don’t mind my naked body on your floor?”

Normally Hannibal would consider it rude but he shakes his head. “But it may feel better for you to lay on a blanket, you may be here for a while.” Hannibal strides over and grabs one of his blankets, laying it on the floor, and watches Will follow suit. “Would you be comfortable lending your likeness to be shown in the gallery?."

“I’ve modeled for it before, I don’t mind. Will I be nude?”

“Not in the final product.” A grin spreads across Will’s face and he watches Hannibal walk over to his desk, picking up folded white silk. He walks back over to Will and kneels in front of him, setting the fabric on the ground. “May I begin?”

“You don’t need to ask anymore, Hannibal.” His voice is soft and breathless as it leaves his lips. 

Hannibal’s eyes flick over his body parts and he sets to work moving Will into the position he is imagining. His hands rest softly on Will’s waist and they guide him to lay on his side, he then positions Will’s leg that is closest to the floor to lay straight. Will’s body follows his hands and holds the pose he is moved into. Hannibal's hand moves from Will’s leg to the back of his other leg, resting on his thigh. Hannibal grips his muscle softly and pulls his leg so his foot is flat against the floor, his knee bending. His hand rests gently on him while he runs his eyes over Will’s lower half once more. 

He swears Will’s skin holds more warmth than usual, a smell lingering on his flesh that he hasn’t smelled on him before. It smells like cologne; deep and rich. It almost fully masks the horrible aftershave Will uses.

Will is holding himself up by his forearms as Hannibal makes his way up his body. He watches Will’s chest rise and fall as he places a gentle hand on his chest, pushing him so he lays down. 

He can feel Will’s heartbeat pick up under his flesh and bones. Will watches Hannibal with bright, wide eyes- they beg his hands to do more. They don't. Even though the view of Will lying naked beside him is a tempting one. He slides his hand from his chest towards his waist, twisting him slightly to align his upper chest with the same angle as his legs. Hannibal guides one of Will’s arms to brace itself back on it’s forearm, his other hand softly leading Will’s head to rest in his own hand. 

Hannibal places his hand over Will’s other hand, that is currently resting on his chest. He spends his time repositioning Will’s fingers against his own skin. His talented fingers circle Will’s joints and move them slowly. The position of his fingers is not nearly as important as Hannibal is making it out to be, he likes watching the red flush that spreads across Will’s chest. He moves backwards a little and takes one final look at Will’s body.

“Perfect,” Hannibal whispers, before moving closer to him again. “I’m going to draw your face, so I will need to position your head as well.”

“Okay,” Will’s words are hot as they leave his mouth. Hannibal flicks his eyes over Will’s face. First his fingers play with Will’s hair, pulling some loose curls to frame his face. His eyes catch Will’s tongue running over his bottom lip. 

Cruelty blooms in his chest.

Hannibal slides a finger under Will’s chin and tips it back gently, dragging his thumb across his jawline. Will’s cheeks darken and his eyes widen, he looks so beautiful this way. 

His eyes don’t swell with fear like his victims do, they swell with anticipation. Hannibal enjoys the emotion behind his eyes as much as the fear that pools in his victims eyes. He runs his thumb over Will’s bottom lip and watches his eyes widen even more, they fill with hope. The same hope he would see when he would dangle his victims safety over their heads. 

He loves to watch that hope fade.

Hannibal gently presses his thumb down, causing Will’s mouth to open ever so slightly. He pulls away from him and watches that familiar fading of hope. “Beautiful.” He repeats. “If you need to break pose please tell me.”

Will doesn’t respond but Hannibal knows he understands. Hannibal stands and unfolds the silk, and drapes it over Will to keep him modest. He acts like he doesn’t notice how hard Will has grown during this process. The fabric clings slightly to his body, attractively flowing over him. Hannibal sits on the floor across from him and leans his sketchbook against his thigh and starts to draw him. 

* * *

He stares at Will’s neck as he adds some more detail, his phone telling him he has been drawing for almost three hours. He is sure those hours have been torturous for Will, but not because of the pose he has to hold. Hannibal flicks his eyes back to his drawing. If he consumed Will, he would be the prettiest of all his kills.

Hunger pangs his stomach and his teeth ache, he wants to devour him. His mind swims with the thought.

_Hannibal pins Will beneath him, his teeth seize his pretty throat. Hannibal makes easy work of his neck, tearing into him. Not worrying about cooking his flesh, he swallows Will down raw. His hand is pressed to Will’s mouth. He has to, his apartment is not as soundproof as he needs it to be. Hannibal wishes he can hear Will’s cries of pain, he imagines they would be music to his ears._

_He sinks his teeth in again for another bite, tearing flesh away from bone and savoring his raw flavor. Hannibal runs his tongue over the indents on his neck; where skin has been ripped away and where Hannibal’s teeth left imprints. When he pulls away blood trickles from his lips onto Will, Will stares up at him with blood droplets covering his face. His eyes wide with an emotion Hannibal cannot place. It isn’t the fear he is used to. Suddenly Hannibal's hand is no longer what is covering Will’s mouth, his lips are._

_Hannibal kisses him, bloody and messy, and Will kisses back. Hannibal bites his lip and breaks the skin, watching Will’s blood fall down his face. His mouth goes back for another bite, the violence of his teeth tear shreds of flesh from Will’s neck, and he greedily swallows them down. His hunger is growing dangerously._

_Will groans when his teeth sink in again, but not out of pain, out of pleasure._

_“Oh,” he moans. “Hannibal, ah, harder. Harder.” Will begs and Hannibal rips more flesh away from his neck, blood spewing out on what should be Hannibal’s floor._

_It isn’t; it’s his bed._

Hannibal blinks and focuses back on his drawing, his eyes glance back up to Will to finish his final touches. Hannibal’s stomach is aching from hunger, his chest is aching from something he doesn’t want to put a name to.


	5. Chapter 5

Will breaks his pose when Hannibal shows him his phone, their symbol for ‘the session is over’. “How long?” Will asks as he sits normally on the floor, the silk still covering him. 

“Three hours and 46 minutes. I will round to four.” Hannibal says as he places his pencils back on his desk along with his sketchbook. He walks over to Will and offers him his hand, Will looks up at him with his bright eyes. He wraps the silk around his waist and grabs Hannibal’s hand, pulling himself to his feet. 

“Thank you.” He breathes out, he pulls the silk from his body and folds it gingerly before handing it to Hannibal. Will walks to where his clothes are and begins to dress, Hannibal runs his fingers softly over the fabric as he sets it on his desk. He gathers his blanket from the floor as well, setting it back by the couch. “Can I see?” 

Hannibal looks over to see Will standing beside him, only in his jeans. Hannibal picks up his sketchbook and flips open to the page, handing it to him. Will’s eyes dart over the page, taking in all the details Hannibal has drawn. 

“This will definitely win, it’s…” Will’s voice trails off as his eyes look at the pieces of armor and the various bleeding wounds Hannibal had added to his body. “Beautiful.” He finally says, then his brow furrows. “Is that narcissistic?” Hannibal laughs softly, taking the sketchbook back from him.

“No,” he says. “It is not. And even if it is, it is a correct judgement.” Will’s cheeks darken once again, his eyes flick over Hannibal’s facial features. Hannibal thought, for a second, that they landed on his lips. Hannibal sets his sketchbook back onto his desk and pulls out his wallet, removing $45. He can hear Will walk over to his living room table. When he turns to hand him the money Will is rubbing his own neck, looking at his phone. 

“Fuck,” Will whispers. “Just great.” Hannibal looks over to meet his eyes, inquisitive, but not demanding an answer. “My roommate’s girlfriend is spending the night, again.” He explains.

“Do you have to share a room?

“No, thank god. But the walls are very thin.” 

“I’m beginning to understand why you get no sleep.” Will chuckles at Hannibal’s words and it turns into a sigh. “You can take refuge here, if you would like.”

“I can’t intrude in your space like that.”

“You cannot possibly be intruding if I offer you inside.” Will looks at him, deciding if he should accept Hannibal’s offer or not. He sets his phone back on the table and raises a hand to his neck again. 

“Did I hurt you?” Hannibal says as he walks over, watching Will’s fingers rub his muscles. 

“No,” Will shakes his head. “My bed is just shit.” Hannibal sets the money on the table by Will’s phone and sits on the couch.

He pats the spot beside him and Will’s eyebrows meet with confusion but he forgoes pulling on his sweater to sit beside Hannibal. “I’m quite good with the human body, if you would like my help, all you need to do is ask.”

“I couldn’t ask that of you.” Will’s words are soft. 

“And why not?” Will doesn’t reply, he simply looks at Hannibal. “I can see the tension you hold, Will. Why would you deny your body of something that it would enjoy?” Will’s cheeks flush at his words and he rubs his mouth with his hand, his fingers dragging over his lips. 

“Then can you help me, please?” Hannibal smiles and nods. 

“Turn so your back is to me.” Will follows his words, doing as he asked. Hannibal pulls him closer to him by his waist. “Where are you sorest, Will?”

“Shoulders and neck.” Hannibal sets his hands gently on Will’s shoulders, easily locating the knots in them. 

“Tell me if I hurt you.” His fingers move softly around his skin, working out the knots in his muscles. His mind swims with all the meals he could make with Will, the various ways he could taste. Will relaxes in his hands; if only he knew what Hannibal’s hands are used to doing. 

“You wouldn’t hurt me on purpose.” Will is so sure of himself, so naive. Hannibal chokes down a smile. “I can tell by the way you pose me, you put my comfort over your art. That is rare for artists. I assume it’s because you’re a med major.” Hannibal hums softly behind him, to show he is listening. His thumbs rub over his skin, working to relax his muscles. It feels odd to do this on a someone who is alive, he normally only tenderizes the meat after his future dinner is dead.

“Other clients have been rough with you?” Anger unfurls and blooms inside his chest and he pushes it down, confused by its arrival. 

“Not like... that.” Will says, staying relaxed in Hannibal’s hands. “They just don’t see me as a human. They see me as something to pose, something to draw. A collection of body parts; meat.” Hannibal pauses slightly, but slides his hands to Will's neck. He massages slow circles, feeling the gentle movements of Will’s throat as he takes in a breath.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Will nods in his grip. Hannibal could snap his neck right now, it would be so easy. 

Hannibal doesn’t want it to be easy; he wants it to last long. 

Hannibal has always thought about keeping someone alive, slowly consuming them piece by piece. He hates eating alone. But his apartment doesn’t offer the privacy he needs, so he will have to tuck that fantasy away for another day. His hands slip back to Will’s shoulders and continue to work on his muscles. 

He rubs his lips together thinking about how tender he is making Will, how good he will taste. But his unhealthy diet would reflect in his meat. 

Hannibal needs Will to eat well; so he can do the same. 

“I have a confession to make, Will.” Hannibal starts, as he stares at the soft flesh of his neck. 

“And what is that, Hannibal?” Hannibal grins softly, his teeth crave to sink into him. He holds himself back.

“My professor tried to give me the number of the model for my section, I didn’t want him.” His fingers press harder against a tense muscle, causing a groan to fall from Will’s lips. 

“And why not?” Will breathes out, his skin grows hotter beneath Hannibal’s hands. 

“I wanted a new subject, I noticed you one day as I left class.” He slides his hands up to rub his neck again, he can feel Will’s pulse speed up. “You caught my eye.”

“Why are you telling me this?” His voice is so faint Hannibal can barely hear it. 

“Isn’t the truth important?” Will turns in his grasp and faces him, eyes flicking rapidly over his appearance. Hannibal drops his hands from Will and looks at him, curious. Hannibal isn’t the only one who is hungry; he can see the darkness that accompanies hunger growing behind Will’s eyes.

“I have a confession to make too.” Will’s hand presses against Hannibal’s chest, forcing his back against the couch. Will moves fast, faster than Hannibal expected. Will straddles him, his arms wrap around Hannibal’s neck. The hunger grows in his eyes when he looks down at him. Hannibal can’t stop the smile that grows across his face, finding himself surprised with how much he enjoys Will on top of him. 

Normally, Hannibal doesn't like being out of control.

“Tell me, Will. What do you have to confess?” His hands settle on Will’s thighs, keeping his eye contact. 

“I lied,” he starts, Hannibal eyebrow arches. “My roommate's girlfriend isn’t spending the night, I don’t even have a roommate.” He chuckles, he rocks his hips into Hannibal while his fingers start to unbutton Hannibal’s shirt. 

“You imply sex and then mention a bed,” Hannibal muses, guiding his movements by his grip on Will’s thighs. “What a clever boy you are.” His hand flows through Will’s hair and he cups his face, bringing Will closer to him. Will bridges the gap and kisses him, Hannibal’s hands settle on his waist. Hannibal slides his tongue into his mouth; he wants to taste him. 

Will groans and he continues to rock his hips against Hannibal, who is growing uncomfortable in his jeans. He breaks the kiss and kisses down Hannibal’s exposed neck, he lets out a hot sigh feeling Will’s teeth graze his skin. 

“Why didn’t you ask me to stay last night?” Will says between kisses. “I would have.”

“I wasn’t sure if that was the case.” Hannibal lies. Will finds his lips back to Hannibal’s and Hannibal’s teeth seize Will’s lip, tugging softly. “But now I am.” When Hannibal stands he guides Will’s legs to wrap around his waist and he walks the both of them into his bedroom. 

He sets Will on the foot of his bed, Hannibal’s hands moving to undo Will’s jeans. Will swats his hands away and pushes him away slightly. Confusion washes over Hannibal as he looks at Will, wondering how he viewed the situation so wrong. It doesn’t last long. 

“Strip.” Will demands, causing Hannibal to arch a brow. “I think it’s long overdue that you strip for me.” A grin washes over Hannibal and he walks to close his bedroom door. “It’s only fair.” He nods in response and walks back over to stand before Will.

He finishes unbuttoning his shirt, acutely aware of Will’s eyes following his movements. Hannibal slides his shirt off slowly and, against his better judgement, drops it to the floor. He tries not to think about all the ironing it will take to get it looking nice again. His hands fall to his belt, undoing it. Hannibal slides it free of his pants and tosses it to his floor as well. 

“Slower.” Will orders, Hannibal flicks his eyes to meet him and he nods. He takes his time on each movement- undoing his jean button, pulling down his zipper, slowly pulling himself free of his jeans. He watches Will’s eyes rake over him. “I want you nude.” Hannibal smiles, somewhat shocked by how easy it is for him to follow Will's orders. He slides his underwear off and stands before him, naked. 

Will’s face shows no change in emotion as he takes Hannibal in, his eyes running over every part of him. He lifts one finger and rotates it, Hannibal turns so his back is to him. He can feel Will’s eyes run over him once more, the snap of Will’s fingers causes Hannibal to look back at him. 

“Do you draw self portraits?” Hannibal shakes his head. “Because you really should, you have... potential.” Hannibal walks over to him, looking down at Will. 

“I am very particular about who sees my naked body.” Will meets his eyes and Hannibal doesn’t elaborate. He goes on his knees before Will, pulling him closer to the edge of the bed. Will’s fingers undo his button and zipper but that is as far as he gets before he groans. Hannibal kisses the bulge beneath his jeans and Will’s hips jerk slightly, he kisses down his thighs. 

“Hannibal,” Will says between groans. “Come on. Don’t be, ah, don’t be a tease.” He chuckles against the fabric but stands, pulling Will to his feet. 

“I could be a lot worse.” Hannibal pulls Will’s jeans down and he steps out of them, he rubs Will harder through his underwear. 

“Maybe,” Will groans into his neck. “Maybe another time. But right now, I want you.”

“You’re making it very hard to be nice.” He removes his hand and Will whines. 

“I didn’t say you had to be nice.” He locks eyes with Hannibal, tugs off his underwear, and lays down on the bed. Hannibal joins him, laying over him. 

“Do you like it rough, Will?”

“It depends,” He says as Hannibal kisses him, it’s sloppy this time. Will moves to whisper into Hannibal’s ear. “When I would fuck myself with my fingers, imagining you were inside me, you weren’t gentle.” He bites Hannibal’s ear, tugging softly at his earlobe. 

Hannibal pins him back to the bed and kisses him, his teeth split his lip open easily and Hannibal sucks his blood from the open wound happily. He tastes exquisite. Will groans in his mouth and Hannibal slides his bedside table drawer open, fumbling inside it until he finds his lube. 

“Do you want me to wear something?” He asks when he pulls away from Will. 

“Have you been tested recently?”

“I take very good care of my body. Yes I have, I’m cleared.”

“Then you don’t have to, I’m good too.” Hannibal nods and closes the drawer, going back to Will’s lips. More red blood has spread across his skin, he has to lick it up. “Do you want me on my back or stomach?” Will mumbles against his lips. 

“Back.” He bites his lip harder, causing a whine of pain to slip past his lips. “I want to look at you.” Will smiles against his lips. 

He goes on his knees between Will’s legs, pushing them back onto his chest. He is surprisingly and unsurprisingly flexible at once. Hannibal moves back on his knees, looking down at Will as he grabs the bottle of lube, pouring some onto his fingers. “Has it been long since someone has penetrated you? Other than yourself?” Will cheeks blush at the question and he shakes his head. 

“But,” he breathes heavily as Hannibal presses his legs further against his chest. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this… captivated.” When Hannibal’s slick fingers meet his entrance he gasps, hands already clenched in the sheets. Hannibal slides two fingers inside Will, working slowly to stretch him open.

“Oh, god.” Will moans beneath him, he easily welcomes Hannibal’s fingers. Hannibal relishes in his sounds, soon adding a third finger. “Fuck.” Will groans, back already arching off the bed slightly. Hannibal takes his time stretching him open, fingering him gently, figuring this will be the only time he will be gentle tonight. 

He slides his fingers out when Will is stretched open enough for Hannibal’s liking. Hannibal figures he could have driven him to release with just his fingers, but he stops short of giving Will what he wants. Will’s eyes are glazed when he meets his eyes, Hannibal grabs his bottle of lube and opens it again. Pouring some in his hand and proceeds to slick his already hard dick. Will groans, watching. 

“Slower.” Hannibal followers his orders once again, normally he had to force himself to follow any sort of orders in the bedroom. With Will it was so easy, almost natural. “Hannibal?”

He hums as he moves closer to Will, positioning himself. 

“Please, destroy me.” He flicks his eyes back up to Will. If only he knew who he was talking to. A grin spreads across his face as he looks at Will beneath him- already sweaty, breathing heavy, his face framed by his curls, eyes wide and glossy, cheeks and chest flushed pink. 

Will’s too beautiful not to destroy. 

He places his hands on the backs of Will’s thighs, holding him in place, before thrusting in. Will tenses at first, but it falls away quickly with more thrusts. Will throws his head back and groans, exposing his throat for Hannibal. 

Hannibal’s too hungry not to take the bait. 

Hannibal rocks his hips into Will, setting a rough pace. Will’s sounds of pleasure and the sound skin hitting skin fill his bedroom. Hannibal leans down and sinks his teeth into Will’s throat, guiding Will’s legs to wrap around his waist. Will pulls him closer and groans beneath him, Hannibal bites harder at his neck. He wants blood. 

A cry of pain spills out among Will’s moans and Hannibal breaks his sink, he sucks around the wound, lapping up the blood. His hips rock into Will harder and Will moves his body with Hannibal’s. 

“Oh, Hannibal.” He moans. 

Hannibal’s mouth leaves Will’s neck to go to his ear. “Louder.” Hannibal demands and Will fills his request, eagerly and easily. Will’s fingers thread through his hair and they hold him close, Hannibal’s mouth falls back to his neck. He sucks bruises along his skin, licking up the blood that had run down it. He pulls away and stares at what he has done to Will’s neck. The wound is much gentler compared to all his other victims, but it still manages to thrill him.

He likes the idea of marking Will as his own. Will wraps his arms tighter around Hannibal and rolls so Hannibal is now beneath him, Will sitting on top of him. Hannibal adjusts against his mattress and grips Will’s hips, going back to his pace. 

Will now smells of sex, sweat, and blood as he moves his body on Hannibal’s dick. His eyes flick over his Will’s features quickly, trying to commit all his details to memory, he would love to draw him this way. Will’s moans have grown more erratic and his body twitches, he won’t last much longer. Hannibal slides a hand from his waist and rubs Will’s cock slowly. His eyes flutter and his head falls back, blood still trickling down his neck.

“Oh, fuck, Hannibal.” Will moans as his body twitches above Hannibal. “You’re- I’m-” He can’t make full sentences, so he gives up trying, fully reduced to hot gasps and moans. Hannibal works him slowly towards orgasm, his hips and hand falling into rhyme with each other. He knows he could drag Will’s orgasm out painfully. Drag him towards the edge and pull him back from it again and again, the idea tempts him but he tucks it away for later. Another night perhaps.

Will is shaking in his grip and it doesn’t take long. His eyes roll back in his head slightly, as his eyelids flutter, and he comes, over Hannibal’s hand and onto his own chest. 

“God.” Will pants, Hannibal’s hands settle on his waist to support him. Will blinks, looking down at Hannibal with a smile. “Just...just a second.” Hannibal runs his thumb softly over his skin, letting Will recover above him, watching the way his muscles move as he heaves in shaky breaths. 

“Okay,” he says after a little bit. “Keep going.” Hannibal moves so Will is pinned back below him, his hands settling back on Will’s thighs as he continues his brutal pace. It’s Will’s teeth that bite this time, he moans against Hannibal‘s skin as his teeth bite above his collar bone. His nails scratch down Hannibal’s back as he moans. 

“Harder,” Will says between loud moans. “Oh. Harder, please.” Hannibal indulges Will’s desire, his hips slamming roughly into him. He groans when Will bites into his neck, feeling his tongue run over his skin. Hannibal kisses Will hard as he fucks him to his own release. Will’s thighs are shaking and his mouth struggles to keep up with Hannibal’s, his eyelids heavy. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Hannibal whispers as his teeth find his neck again. “You rival many of the statues I’ve seen in Florence.” Will laughs weakly beneath him. Hannibal kisses him again and thrusts harder, resting his head against Will’s forehead when he pulls away from his mouth. Soft moans leave Hannibal’s lips before he comes inside him, relaxing his body on top of Will’s.

Both men lay entangled and panting for quite some time, Will plays absentmindedly with Hannibal’s hair. “Would you like something to eat, Will?” Hannibal finally says, lips softly brushing against his neck.

“Yeah, I’m starving.” He nods. “But I’m probably gonna need help getting to the kitchen.” Hannibal smiles and kisses him one last time before pulling away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thought i would post both 4 and 5 together; so i did.


	6. Chapter 6

Hannibal’s bed feels colder without Will in it. It feels bigger and emptier without Will beside him. He takes a quick shower and then dresses, being able to faintly smell Will’s sweat, cologne, blood, and natural musk on his sheets; even if it was a couple days since Will had laid in it. He sips his coffee at his kitchen table, scrolling through his phone. He clicks on a message from Will.

_‘i dont think im gonna make it today. got a big paper to finish. sorry.’_

Will’s lack of capitalization bothers Hannibal, but he ignores it. Hannibal hovers his fingers over his phone, wanting to call him, but knowing better. 

_‘Do not apologize, I hope your paper goes smoothly. I will see you whenever you are available.’_

He sets his phone back on the table and sighs. Hannibal stands and gathers his textbooks and notebooks into his bag, pulls on his coat, and heads to the door. 

Even though he just ate breakfast, hunger pains his chest. 

A flash of purple catches Hannibal out of the corner of his eye, he diverts his attention from his book to see Alana weaving her way through the library towards him. Hannibal had gotten done with his classes a couple hours ago and was waiting for hers to end as well. 

“Hi,” she says as she sits beside him. Alana shrugs her coat off her shoulders, revealing a grey sweater overtop a purple wrap dress. She unzips her backpack and starts to fill the side of the table Hannibal left empty with psychology textbooks and her laptop. “Haven’t seen you in a bit, been busy?” 

Hannibal sets his book down and nods. “I’ve been expanding my portfolio.”

“Can I take a look?” Hannibal nods again and hands her his sketchbook, which is flipped open to the page of Will from the waist up, the most modest drawing of him he has. “This is beautiful, you have an amazing grasp of the human form.” Hannibal smiles and watches her eyes run over the drawing. “Did you use a live model or a reference image?” 

“I hired a model.” He responds, opening a notebook. 

“Hmm,” Alana muses, causing Hannibal to look over at her. “I think I know him, Will, right?”

“Graham,” he adds. “Yes.” He watches Alana’s fingers move to turn a page. “I would advise you to stay on that page, there are nude portraits beyond that drawing.”

“So you _have_ been busy.” Hannibal ignores her comment, taking the sketchbook back from her.

“Is he a friend of yours?”

“Acquaintance,” she corrects. “He is a friend of a friend, Jack knows him.” Hannibal nods, he remembers seeing Jack with Alana sometimes. Unlike many of Alana’s friends, who are psychology majors like herself, he is a criminal justice major. Hannibal does his best to avoid her psychology friends, especially the freshman, they all itch to diagnose anyone and everyone with a personality disorder. 

After one, jokingly, called Hannibal a 'psychopath' he decided to keep his distance. Even though none of them are smart enough to see through his carefully constructed facade or climb over the many walls he has surrounding his true self. 

If anyone could, it would be Alana. 

She managed to worm her way into Hannibal’s life, no matter how hard he tried to push her out. Even though he finds himself quite content in his loneliness he does appreciate her company. Alana is wickedly smart, which provides a nice game of cat and mouse for Hannibal, even though she is unknowingly the mouse. If she is diagnosing him with a myriad of personality disorders and mental conditions, she doesn’t tell him. 

The day bleeds into night and the two stay in the library studying, it is mostly vacant due to the late hour and it being early in the semester. Hannibal had rewritten his notes in three languages; Lithuanian, Italian, and then again in English. He quizzed Alana with flashcards for her upcoming psychology exam and she watched him as he drew the anatomy of the human body from memory. 

“I’m gonna get us more coffee,” Alana says as she stands, grabbing her purse. “You’re usual?”

Hannibal looks up from his textbooks, pushing his hair back. “Please.” He frowns softly when she walks away, he picks up his phone and scrolls through his notifications, looking for Will. 

He doesn’t find him. 

He ponders sending a message, but his fingers can’t find the right words. He deletes the message he was going to send and sighs as he sets his phone down, spinning his pen in his fingers. He feigns a smile as Alana returns with two coffees, he pulls his wallet out but she slaps it away playfully. 

“You paid for the last ones, it’s on me.” He begrudgingly puts it away. 

“Thank you.” He says as he sips his coffee, flipping through his textbook. 

“Hannibal?” Alana says a little bit later, her voice is soft. The same softness it had the first time she kissed him. They tried a relationship, mainly because Hannibal knew it was inevitable. Almost two months into them dating Alana realized they weren’t right for each other and their relationship slipped back into the realm of fully platonic. In another life Hannibal may have dated her, even married her. She would make the picture perfect girlfriend to take back to ones parents. He shrugs away the feeling, knowing that even if he was as normal as Alana assumes he is, they still wouldn’t be right for each other. 

“Yes?” He asks, looking over at her. 

Alana bites her lip. “Could you walk me home? I know it’s quite a ways out from your apartment but…” She trails off. Hannibal can’t hear the tone she used the first time she asked him this, when she pulled him into her dorm and kissed him. Her tone drips with worry, maybe even fear. It excites him. “Ever since that student got murdered I’ve been feeling paranoid.”

“Of course, I’ll walk you home.” Alana smiles at his words. “But I thought those murders were at the community college.”

“They were, but the last victim was a student here, he went there for a party. Did you see the Tattlecrime update?” Hannibal shakes his head, lying. He patiently waits for each article, and more importantly, the pictures of his work to be posted. Tattlecrime is a blog run by a gutsy journalism major, Freddie Lounds. He has seen her bright red curls around campus, camera slung around her neck. If her passion isn’t killed during college he believes she will be an interesting addition to his life. 

Alana types on her laptop and then turns it, showing Hannibal the article. ‘The Chesapeake Ripper peels back the layers’, is in bold writing above the article. It talks about the victim who looked like Will, the one that touched him, the one whose skin he cut from his body. 

“Brutal,” Hannibal muses. His eyes hover on the article, pretending he hasn’t already read it. “Did Freddie give the killer that name or did the cops?”

“Not fully sure, either way I guess it fits. They talk about him a lot in my psychology classes.”

“And what do they say?”

“They call him a sadist.” Hannibal looks at her closely as she flips through her notebook. “That he is probably young, or young enough to blend in with the college crowd, given all his victims are college aged. Most likely only started killing recently, there is a level of experimentation to the kills.” Alana reads from her notes, everything Alana reads is more or less accurate, besides the last bit. He had left many broken, brutalized bodies behind when he left Florence. “That he is probably charming, well educated, and has knowledge of human anatomy. The taking of organs is ritualistic, the victims give to him even beyond death.”

“Interesting theory.” Hannibal says as she closes her notebook. “What do they assume he does with them, the organs?”

“Medical trophy of some kind. Not sure what else he would do with them.” Alana yawns and looks at her watch. “Wow, it’s almost ten. We’ve been here all day.”

“How about I walk you home?” She smiles and they gather their things. 

He enjoys the walk to Alana’s dorm, the silence and crisp night air is comforting. 

“Thank you, again.” Alana says as she unlocks her door. “I’d like to go back to when I just had to worry about being assaulted.” She chuckles awkwardly, Hannibal doesn’t find the humor in it.

“I’d like you to worry about neither. Do you have pepper spray?” He suppresses a smile, thinking about all the times he has watched his victims fumble with their pepper spray, most unable to get it from their pocket before reaches them. 

“Of course. And a knife.” She glances around a little and pulls her dress up enough to flash the knife strapped to her thigh. “But I got that after hearing about the murders, never can be too careful.” Hannibal swallows his surprise and nods a little as she smoothes out her dress.

“Have other women gone as far as you have?” A smile bites at the corner of his mouth. 

“I’m sure they haven’t,” she leans against her door. “Everyone assumes it will never happen to them, I’d rather assume it will and prepare accordingly.” His smile grows, she is right after all.

“Sleep well, Alana, same time tomorrow?”

“If you don’t mind. My exam is in two days and I’m anxious about it.”

“You’re one of the smartest people I’ve met, but I will gladly help ease your anxiety.”

She smiles as she unlocks her door. “Goodnight, Hannibal.” Hannibal hovers outside until he hears the door lock and then walks back to where his car is parked. 

Once home he locks the door behind him and sets his bag by the couch. Seeing Alana felt good, but she wasn’t who he wanted to see. 

His bed feels colder, emptier, and even bigger than it did this morning. 

* * *

Will texts him in the middle of their study session the next day, the vibration adding to the sound of Alana’s fingers anxiously tapping the table.

_‘want to go to a party? a friend invited me, thought id ask.’_

Hannibal reads the message and glances over at Alana, watching her frantically shuffle through her flashcards. 

_‘I cannot. I’m studying with a friend. Hope you have fun though, call me if you need a ride.’_

He stares at what he typed out for too long and sighs as he sends it, it’s not long until his phone vibrates again. 

_‘all good. still on for tomorrow?’_

_‘Of course. It will be good to see you.’_

_‘same here ;)’_

Hannibal finds himself both rolling his eyes and smiling at Will’s message as he puts his phone away, focusing on Alana. Taking the flashcards from her hands and starting to quiz her from them.

“You seem happier, Hannibal.” Alana says as he walks her to her dorm again, it being almost 11 at night. 

“I seemed depressed before?”

“No, not really.” She shrugs. “You seem more full of life.” He smiles softly at her words. “You’re seeing him, aren’t you?”

“What makes you think that?”

She shrugs again. “Just a hunch, you never used to check your phone this much.” Hannibal doesn’t appease her with a lie; knowing she will see through it, she always manages to see through his unimportant lies. “Well, if so, good catch. He’s quite cute.” Hannibal forces himself to keep the smile on his face, the jealous anger that swells in his chest surprises him at its quickness. 

“And you seem less anxious, I hope this helped you calm your nerves.”

“It did, I just have high standards.” Alana looks at him before unlocking her door. “Do you feel good about your exam?”

“I’ll probably have to study anatomy a bit more, I’m still a little shaky on the internal workings.” He lies. “But otherwise I should be alright.”

“Well, let me know if I can ever calm your nerves.” She smiles and stands in her open doorway. “See you again.” He nods. 

“See you again, Alana.” He leaves after the door locks and checks his phone for a message from Will. 

He has none. Hannibal sighs, hoping Will was smart enough not to drive drunk. 

Back in his apartment he undresses, sliding on the shirt he had given Will to sleep in. He doesn’t even bother trying to convince himself he doesn’t know what he is doing. He falls asleep wrapped in Will’s scent, it makes his bed feel less lonely. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for discussions of sexual assault.

Will’s familiar scent fills the room when he opens Hannibal's door, walking inside his apartment, Hannibal indulges in it. Hannibal smiles even though Will cannot see it, he stands with his back to the door at his desk, sharpening a pencil with his scalpel. He hears Will walk across the living room and Hannibal turns to see Will standing by his window, Hannibal’s brow furrows. 

Something is wrong. 

He can see it in Will posture, the tenseness of his shoulders. The way he smells of black coffee and sweat. He has a baseball cap pulled low over his face, his anxious fingers picking at his nails.

“Will, we don’t have to if-”

“It’s fine.” He snaps, the voice of a man desperately trying to prove he is okay. “I’m fine, let’s just do this.” His voice is softer this time and Hannibal can hear the lack of sleep on his words.

“Anything you wish.” Hannibal says, looking wearily at him. He turns back to his desk to finish sharpening his pencil. He can hear the sound of Will kicking his shoes off and an item of clothing hitting the floor. He rubs his lips together trying to figure out what to say, it doesn’t last long. 

When he turns to face Will he is met with a fresh bruise beneath Will’s left eye, clouding the normal dark circles he wears effortlessly. Hannibal tosses his drawing materials back onto his desk, he doesn’t even think about how he probably broke the lead of his pencils. He doesn’t care. 

He steps towards Will and cups his head gently, realizing the sound of clothes hitting the floor was his hat. 

“Who did this?” Hannibal asks, it doesn’t come out like a question. “Who hurt you?” His voice softer this time, rage bubbles in his throat and he chokes it down. Will doesn’t respond, he looks up at Hannibal with wet eyes. His fingers go to the buttons on his shirt. 

“Will, no. We don’t have to do this.”

“Yes. I do.” Will snaps, Hannibal drops his hand from Will’s head but stands close. Will’s shaky fingers start to undo his shirt, revealing the skin Hannibal had grown to memorize. Revealing the bruises Hannibal hasn’t. Blue, black, green, and yellow splotch Will’s skin as he slowly unbuttons his shirt, before sliding it off. 

Hannibal studies Will’s body, looking closely at them, their placements. He swallows down the realization of knowing what they are from. 

“Hannibal,” Will says softly, tears threaten his eyes. “You’re a doctor. Well, almost. Look at me and tell me what happened.” 

“Will-” Hannibal tries to talk him out of it. 

“No. Tell me. I-” Tears break his eyes and he wipes them away quickly. “I can’t remember.” 

“Tell me what you do.” Will nods. “Come here.” Hannibal takes his hand and leads him gently to the couch, sitting beside him. 

“Okay,” Will starts. “I remember going to the party, having a couple drinks.” Guilt is already eating away at Hannibal. “It normally doesn’t take a lot to get me drunk, so I thought I just drank too much. Then suddenly everything was blurry.” He could have been there. “And then, it’s just black. I woke up in my own dorm, I don’t know how. And… something just felt wrong.” He could have stopped it. “But I just figured I got drunk and blacked out, it happens. And then I was getting dressed and-” He motions to his chest. “And then I came here.” Hannibal takes Will’s wrists softly, looking at the bruises on them. He recognizes them immediately. Will was bound to something, Hannibal assumes a headboard.

Rage boils inside of him and his jaw clenches. 

He holds Will’s hands softly, rubbing gently over the bruises. 

“Tell me what happened.” Will repeats. 

“Are you certain you want to know?”

“I just… want to know if I’m right… about…” He looks at Hannibal, who is too angry to try to hide the expression. “Fuck.” He whispers under his breath and tugs his hands away from Hannibal’s grasp to hold his head in his hands. 

“I’m sorry.” Hannibal whispers, his hand gently rubbing Will’s back.

“What are you sorry about? You didn’t hurt me.”

“I should have been there. I’m sorry.” Will lifts his head and looks at him. 

“Were you the one that assaulted me, Hannibal?” The words knock the air from him and Hannibal shakes his head. “Then you have nothing to be sorry for.” He slowly nods, Will rests his head on Hannibal’s shoulder. 

“What support would you like from me?”

“You.” Will says, Hannibal pulls the blanket from the floor and wraps it around him. “I just want you.”

“I'll stay. I won’t go anywhere.” Hannibal whispers, before kissing his forehead. 

“Don’t you have classes?” Will asks.

“I do. You are more important than any of them.” He hasn’t missed a single class yet, he couldn’t imagine a more important reason than this. “Did you go to yours?” Will nods against him. 

“I can’t really afford to skip them anyway. Didn’t want to have to explain why I wasn’t there.” Hannibal nods, an arm wrapped tightly around him. 

“I understand.”

“No, Hannibal. You don’t.” Hannibal stays silent and Will sits up straight, looking at him. “Oh god, I shouldn’t have- I’m sorry.”

“So you can say ‘sorry’ and I cannot?” Will glares at him but it bleeds into a smile, Hannibal mirrors his smile when he sees the brightness return to Will’s eyes. “It’s okay. It was a couple years ago.” When Hannibal was a freshman at the college. “Attempted. He didn’t get far.”

He was Hannibal’s first kill in the States, he made sure no one would ever find his body. The first kill in a long time that he didn’t eat. “He was quite drunk, easy to escape.” Hannibal lies, he blinks away the memory of it, although keeping how good it felt to kill him close to his chest. 

“You got away.” Will looks at him, and Hannibal can see the blame Will holds against himself grow.

“I wasn’t drugged and I wasn’t tied up. If I was, I wouldn’t have gotten away.” Hannibal lies, he was tied. He had broken his own thumb to get out, but he couldn’t possibly have achieved it drugged. 

“You think I was drugged?” 

“It seems a likely scenario. How much did you have to drink?”

Will ponders. “Two beers, but I didn’t eat much that day.”

“Would that normally make you blackout?” Will shakes his head. “It’s likely one of your drinks was spiked, even if you never set it down. Could have happened while you were holding it, crowded parties make people distracted. Is this the first time this has happened to you?”

Will nods. “I’ve been roughed up before or pinned against a wall by a sleazy guy.” Hannibal’s jaw clenches again. “But nothing like this. So, he drugged me and took me back to his place, did… whatever with me and yet I woke up at home?”

“Were you dressed?” Will nods. 

“Boxers and a shirt, but that’s normal for me.”

“If you were drugged you could have given him your address, or he hunted you, for lack of a better term.” Will shudders and leans back against Hannibal. “Was there DNA evidence?” Will shakes his head.

“At least he had the decency to wear something.” Will mumbles. “I’m still going to get tested, before we do anything.”

“We don’t have to do anything. You don’t have to force yourself into a possibly triggering scenario to please me.”

“I still want to enjoy sex, but you’re probably right. I should wait.” Hannibal nods and pulls him closer. “Can I stay the night? I’d feel safer beside you.” Hannibal smiles, wondering if he would still feel that way knowing what he is and what he does. He kisses his forehead again. 

“Of course. Did you recognize him, you attacker?” Will shakes his head. “If you remember more, will you tell me? Pushing away these memories will only harm you in the end.”

“You think I will remember?”

“It’s quite possible. Traumatic events affect everyone differently." Hannibal explains. "You may suppress it for years without it surfacing, it may never surface, or you may remember in an hour. All depends on how your brain sees fit to protect you.”

“What are you? A psych major?” Hannibal chuckles.

“No, but I am friends with one.”

“Who?” Will asks, cuddling his face into Hannibal’s chest.

“Alana Bloom.”

“Oh, yeah, I know her. She’s nice.” Hannibal can tell Will is soaking up the normal conversation, he holds him close and indulges him in it. 

Hunger still grows inside of him even when the conversation turns to normalities. It swells in his hands, and makes its way to his teeth. Hannibal knows he must find the person who did this to Will; torture him to the point where death is a kindness. People don’t hurt the ones he cares for and get away with it; that is something Hannibal knows all too well.

* * *

Hannibal didn’t sleep that night. He wavered between watching Will sleep beside him and closing his eyes, regulating his breathing to mimic sleep. Every shift and movement from Will would have jerked him from sleep anyway. He laid waiting for Will to sputter awake from a nightmare, roll over to him and confess he had been faking sleep as well, anything. 

Will, from what Hannibal saw, slept peacefully.

Will stirs beside him when daylight seeps through the blinds, rolling his head onto Hannibal’s chest. Hannibal closes his eyes, waits, and then lets his eyelids flutter open. He looks down at Will through his lashes calculatedly. Hannibal plays softly with Will’s soft hair and he feels Will's exhale on his chest when he opens his eyes.

“Morning.” Will mumbles against his chest. 

“Did you sleep soundly?” Will nods against him. 

“Somehow I didn’t get nightmares, I expected them. That’s why- not that that was the only reason I wanted to, I assumed-” Hannibal guides Will's head to kiss him. 

“You get easily flustered in the morning.” He says against his lips, feeling Will's smile.

“ _You_ make me flustered.” Will corrects him as he rests his head back on his chest. “Thank you, for letting me stay. I can normally handle my nightmares on my own, but I didn’t want to risk it this time.” 

“You are always welcome in my bed.” Will flushes, cheeks hot against Hannibal’s skin. “Would you like breakfast?”

“Will you cook shirtless, please?” Hannibal laughs, running a hand to smooth out his own hair. 

“Only because you asked so nicely.” Will sits up in bed and Hannibal looks at him. Taking in the softness of his feature; his unruly hair, the stumble of his beard that Will hasn’t maintained yet, the sleep around his eyes- all of it beautiful. Hannibal pulls on his lounge pants and forgoes his sleep shirt, but tosses it to Will instead. “What would you like to eat?”

Will ponders the question as he pulls on Hannibal’s shirt. Hannibal, out of the corner of his eye, catches Will gently pulling the front of the shirt to inhale Hannibal’s scent. 

His heart tenses; he loves it and despises it at the same time. 

“You’re the cook, surprise me.” Hannibal grins out of view, if only he knew. 

They eat a breakfast protein scramble at his kitchen table. Hannibal likes the way his shirt is a little big on Will. 

“You’re really spoiling me, this is good.” Will says between bites, eating down another one of Hannibal’s victims who wasn’t as pretty as Will. 

“You deserve to be spoiled, Will.” Hannibal says simply as he sips his coffee. 

“And how am I supposed to make this up to you?” Hannibal doesn’t say anything, grabbing his cup and rising to refill his coffee. “I don’t think you should pay me anymore, as a model.”

“You deserve to be paid for your work. I told you, the money is no issue.”

“I let my past boyfriends draw me for free, it is only fair.” Hannibal looks over at Will and tilts his head, watching Will’s eyes widen. “I mean…” Hannibal sits back across from him at the table, a soft smile on his face as Will fumbles with his words. “I don’t charge people who I am intimate with.”

“Do you feel guilty that I am feeding you and also paying you for a service?” Will shrugs, taking another bite. 

“I just,” he pauses to swallow. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m using you for money and good food.”

“Will,” he starts. “I’ve never felt that way in regards to you. I feed those I care about. I pay those who provide me a service. You are both.” Will looks at him unconvinced and Hannibal sighs. “I have lived here for a little over three years. I’ve slept with other people during that time, but you are the first I have had in my own bed.”

Will’s brow furrows and looks at him with a concoction of surprise and softness. 

“I’ve turned down clients to see you,” Will says softly. “Not even to get your money, half the time I forget about it until you give me it.” Hannibal smiles and picks his fork back up.

“Finish your meal before it gets cold.” He says lovingly, his eyes shine as Will takes another bite. Hannibal holds one of Will’s hands across the table, gently rubbing the bruise around his wrist. 

After a while of happy silence Hannibal speaks again. “Have you remembered anything?” Will shakes his head. 

“I figured it would come out in a dream.”

“It may, or something seemingly unrelated may trigger a memory. In my case, I have a heightened sense of smell, so certain smells will trigger the memory.”

“So, I basically just have to wait until it attacks me?”

“In a way. Trauma like what you endured is something your brain will want to protect you from, it can only hold back so much. Being drugged adds another layer to that, because you may not be repressing things of your own accord.” Will nods along with his words, drinking his coffee. 

“I want to know.” Hannibal looks up at him. “At least so I know what happened, I don’t want to be guessing my entire life. I want to know who he is.” _So do I._ “Can’t you… reenact it with me?” Hannibal chokes on his coffee, coughing slightly. 

“Will-”

“Not like _that_. You are good with the human form, we both know that. Can’t you look at my bruises and figure out what he did?”

“I could. But that may do more harm than good, it may force memories to the surface before you are ready to handle them. And you may project your abuse onto me, view me as the abuser due to your lack of memory.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Will grumbles. “Well, then couldn’t us having sex make me remember it?”

“There’s a possibility, yes.”

“So what happens then? We just never have sex? I don’t want that.”

“It’s quite simple actually, if something goes wrong you tell me and we stop. I can deduce from your bruises that he was on top of you, an easy way to help lessen the possibility of something triggering you is you being on top.”

Will arches a brow. “Really? I assumed you liked to be the one on top.”

“I usually do. You intrigue me, Will, I still cannot place why. The idea of you dominating me intrigues me.” Will flushes and ducks his head to finish his meal. “We do not have to have sex until you are ready.” 

“Thank you.” Will says after a bite. “I don’t deserve you.” He says fondly and Hannibal looks at him sadly. If anyone doesn’t deserve the other it is Hannibal; he doesn’t deserve Will. And whoever hurt him doesn’t deserve life.


	8. Chapter 8

A couple days have passed. Hannibal had gone to his classes, aced his exam, and looked at every man on campus with disguised maliciousness. 

His hunger claws at him as he walks to his apartment, but he can’t convince himself to go hunting. His fridge is full, but it isn't full with who he truly wants inside of it. Hannibal starts to make dinner, and then pauses, pulling out his phone and calling Will.

“Hey,” Will says through the phone. Hannibal presses the speaker button and smiles hearing his voice, he hates texting- so impersonal. “Hannibal?”

“I’m here. I like hearing your voice.” He can hear Will smile over the line. “I can assume then you aren’t stopping over for dinner?”

“Oh shit, I completely lost track of time. I’m sorry, I still need to study.”

“That’s alright.” Hannibal says, putting one of the sections of meat he had set out to thaw back in the freezer. “I figured as much, but I wanted to ask before I started cooking.”

“I feel like an ass now.” Will mumbles through the phone, stifling a yawn. 

Hannibal turns on his stove and pours oil into the pan. “Have you been sleeping, Will?”

Will is silent on the other line. 

“Will.”

“And if I haven’t?” 

“I’m sure you know that is unhealthy without a medical major explaining it.”

“Now _you’re_ the ass.” 

“Now you’re avoiding the subject.” Will sighs over the line. 

“I slacked on some school work, I’m making it up.” 

“And you need 24 hours to do so?” Hannibal pokes at him, slicing him open to see his weaknesses. “Are you worried about nightmares?”

“Did you get them?” Hannibal rubs his lips together as he places the seasoned slice of meat in the hot pan. 

“No.” He lies, he has them. He only has nightmares about two things- Mischa and that night. “But I am not the baseline, because I do not get them doesn’t mean you will also not be haunted.”

“I don’t know if I want to remember anymore.” Will says softly over the line, his words seem unbalanced. He is stressing the syllables in a way he normally doesn’t, the way he does after too many glasses of wine. Hannibal sighs silently and turns the meat in the pan. “I first thought it would make it easier, to know what happened. But it could have been worse than I can ever imagine, and my imagination isn’t always savory.”

“You’ve been drinking to forget.”

Will doesn’t even try to lie. “I don’t want to be a victim. I don’t want trauma, this is bullshit, Hannibal.”

“No one does.” He wants to tell him that alcohol may make it worse, it may pull those memories to the surface when they are not ready to resurface. He doesn’t. Hannibal looks down at his dinner, he could quickly wrap it in tinfoil, toss it in the freezer and drive out to Will. “Do you want me to come over?”

“What good could you do?” His words aren’t mean, they’re soft and truthful. Even with the softness Hannibal’s face falls and he stabs at the meat with his fork. An ache that is rivaling hunger grows and swells in his chest. He aches for Will; not in his teeth, on his plate, or in neat sections in his fridge. Hannibal aches to hold him, pull those memories to the surface just enough to peak at the face of his attacker, just enough to hunt him down. “I’ll be fine.” Will isn’t talking to Hannibal, he is talking to himself.

The ache grows. 

“If you need me-”

“I know. I should go, Hannibal.”

“Promise me you will sleep tonight.”

“I’ll try.” The two hang on the line for a little longer, both expecting the other to say a certain combination of words. Neither man says it.

“Sleep soundly, Will.” Hannibal says before he hangs up, plating his dinner. 

He eats hunched over and mindlessly. Whoever is before him doesn’t taste good, even though he knows it should. It’s not who his tongue wants, as if Will’s attacker would even be worthy enough to be eaten by Hannibal. If anyone should eat him, Will should. He fumbles for a pen and writes various meal ideas on a scrap of paper, remembering that Will likes seafood. 

_There is a good sushi place in town_ , he ponders taking Will there sometime as he writes. Hannibal hasn’t killed out of vengeance in so long, he forgot how his hands burn for it. 

* * *

Violent, repetitive knocking jerks Hannibal from sleep. A less calculated person would worry it was the cops, he doesn’t. He tugs on a shirt and glances at his clock, it is three in the morning. The knocking doesn’t stop. He rubs sleep from his eyes and turns on a lamp as he walks through his apartment to get to the front door, the knocking only stops when Hannibal unlocks the door. When he opens the door he is met with Will, which isn’t surprising. 

The state he is in _is_ surprising. 

Will is disheveled, dressed as if he got dressed in the dark and in a hurry. The remnants of tears are on his cheeks and in his eyes, he is shaking violently, and he reeks of alcohol. Hannibal pulls him into his apartment, locking the door behind him. Will collapses into his arms, and sobs into his chest. 

“Are you hurt?” Hannibal asks and Will shakes his head. “You remembered something?” It isn’t really a question but Will nods anyway. Hannibal picks him up, knowing that his back will hurt in the morning, he ignores it. He sits on the couch and sets Will beside him, who buries his head back into Hannibal’s chest. 

They stay like this for a while; Will sobbing and Hannibal holding him. 

When Will is no longer shaking as violently and sobbing as hard, Hannibal speaks. “I normally would advise against this, but alcohol makes you calm, correct?” Will nods against his chest and Hannibal worms his way free, walking into his kitchen. 

“I’m not sure how much wine will-” Will stops talking when Hannibal pulls out a bottle of expensive whiskey, which he bought just for Will. He adds two ice cubes and pours a glass, before walking back to the couch. Will takes it from him with shaky hands and sips slowly. 

“Damn, this is good. I won’t even want to ask how much it was.” Hannibal smiles as he sits back beside him, setting the bottle on the table. “Thank you.” 

“We don’t have to talk about it.”

“Yes we do.” Will says into his whiskey, tears well in his eyes again. Hannibal takes the glass from him as his hands shake again, setting it on the table. 

“How much do you remember?”

“Everything. At least I think so.”

“Do you know who did this to you?” Will shakes his head. “Could you describe him for me?” He nods slowly. 

“Can I stay?” Will whispers and Hannibal just kisses his forehead, he tastes of sweat. “I can’t go back home. It happened there.” Hannibal pulls away and focuses on him, keeping a composed expression even as anger and horror swell inside him. 

“Talk to me.” He says softly.

“It happened in my dorm. I remember him pulling me from the party, he said I was too drunk to drive, that he would take me home. I was fumbling with my keys so he unlocked my door, walked me inside and…” Will grabs his whiskey and downs it in one gulp, putting the glass on the table. “I can’t live there anymore, but I have a lease I can’t just get out of it. I can barely afford that piece of shit as it is, much less another apartment while paying for that one.” Will is no longer talking to Hannibal, his anxious thoughts bleeding to the surface.

“You can stay here.”

“But I can’t-”

“I will pay until your lease expires.” Will looks over at Hannibal, stunned to the point that it stops his shaking.

“No, Hannibal, no. I can’t ask you to do that, we’ve just known each other a couple months.”

“You are not asking, I am offering. And time is irrelevant when it comes to bonds, the bond is defined by the intensity.”

“I can’t put you out for that much, no matter how much money you have, money is money.”

“Then would you feel safe living there?” Will pauses and then finally shakes his head. “In the morning we will go to your place and get your things, I will talk to your landlord about all future payments, and you can live here.”

“Thank you.” Will whispers, he rubs his neck with his hands. “I just can’t stay there another night, now that I know.”

“I hope you can feel safe here.”

“I will, I do.” Will grabs the bottle and refills his cup. “He would come back for me.” Hannibal studies him as he drinks. 

“I know it feels that way. Not only were you violated but your home and safety were as well. It is normal to-”

“You don’t understand.” Will interrupts him and takes another drink before continuing to speak. “He said he was coming back.” Surprise quickly turns to rage inside Hannibal, clenching his jaw. “He said I was his favorite so far.” Bile and anger surge in Hannibal’s throat, his knuckles turn white from how hard he is clenching them. “He is going to notice that I moved. What if he finds out where I am now and hunts me down? Catches me when I’m going to and from classes? Walking to my car? He could notice we are together and assume I’m here, he could hurt you. What if-”

“Will, you are spiraling.” He takes the glass again from Will and Will rests his head in the crook of Hannibal’s neck.

“I just want him gone. You must want the man that tried to hurt you gone.” _He is gone._ “Is that too much to ask?”

“Not at all.” _He will be gone. Do not worry, Will._ “Would you be able to describe him to me, so I could sketch a likeness.”

“I’ll try.” 

“To ease your worry, Will. This complex is very safe, I always lock my door. Nothing is going to hurt you again on my watch.”

“That’s nice, Hannibal. It is, but, you can’t always be watching me. You have your own classes, a life of your own. You can’t just drop it all to keep me safe. I have pepper spray, guess that’s something.” _It is not enough._ “Oh, I got tested and I passed, thank god.” Hannibal nods and leans down to gently kiss him. 

“We will save that for whenever you are ready, truly ready. Not faking readiness to please me.” Hannibal says as their lips part and Will nods, he tastes of expensive whiskey and tears. “Tomorrow I will take you food shopping with me, I am running low on some groceries and I would like to have food here you enjoy.” 

“If I buy ramen packets will you kick me out?” Will nuzzles into his neck, kissing lazily. Hannibal smiles at his change of tone.

“No, but I would offer to make it homemade instead.” 

“You bought that whiskey for me, didn’t you?” Hannibal doesn’t respond, Will knows he did. “It’s really good, I’ll never be able to go back to the cheap shit I buy.” Hannibal runs his fingers through his hair, smiling. “I wish I could return the favor.”

“I told you, the money is no worry.”

“It’s not about the money, Hannibal. It’s about the gesture.”

“You don’t have to return it, I know. You sought me out in your lowest moment, it is me who you crawl to. Doesn’t that mean just as much?” Will eyes glisten as he looks at him, but not like before. 

“You make me feel confused.” Will whispers. “I’ve been with men before. Slept with them, dated them, even loved them. But this feels like uncharted waters.”

“You are not alone on that ship, Will. I feel those waters as well.” Will swallows, possibly swallowing down tears and nuzzles his head back in Hannibal’s neck. “Aš tave myliu.”

Hannibal can feel Will’s brow furrow against his skin and then it slips away. Those were the three words he was looking for earlier; just not the language he expected.


	9. Chapter 9

Hannibal is putting their groceries away in the fridge, the food Will had chosen sticks out like a sore thumb among Hannibal’s food, he just smiles. “I will clear some drawers in my bedroom dresser for you when I am through with this.” Hannibal informs Will, who is standing next to him and handing him items from the plastic bags.

“You don’t have to,” he responds. “I’m used to living out of duffle bags.” Hannibal looks over at him interested, there is a story he hasn’t heard yet behind his words. “I moved around a lot in my youth.” Will explains.

“Always used to passing through, being the new kid.”

“Always.”

“I want you to have your own drawers, Will. You are not just passing through here. I welcome you to stay as long as you need, as long as you want. And before you try to offer me rent, I will not take it.”

“I guess I’ll have to make it up to you another way.” He feels Will’s eyes run over his body unsubtly, he shakes his head with a faint smile as he puts away the last item of food. Hannibal closes the fridge and picks up one of the duffle bags holding Will’s clothes, and walks into the bedroom. Hannibal sets the bag on his bed and he goes about making room for Will, figuring two drawers will be enough. He can’t remember the last time, if ever, he had a partner keep belongings at his place. 

“These drawers are yours,” Hannibal gestures to them. “There are some leftover hangers in the closet you may use, and I cleared some counter space the bathroom for you. Please let me know if you need any more room.”

Will unzips one of the bags and then pauses, looking at Hannibal. “Thank you, I couldn’t imagine spending another night there, much less in that bed." Will shudders a little before continuing to speak. "I normally don’t move this fast into relationships, we haven’t even talked about it.”

“Would you like to discuss it?”

“I’ve been thinking about it." Will nods. "It feels immature to call you a boyfriend, I don’t know why. Maybe because you’re older or more refined, it feels untruthful.” Will says as he packs away his clothes inside Hannibal’s dresser drawer.

“It doesn’t describe what we are to you, so you feel wrong using it. Do you view me as something greater or lesser than a boyfriend?” Hannibal sits on the foot of the bed, watching the places Will puts specific articles of clothing, trying to memorize them for when he does their laundry. 

“You’re greater than that, by far. It feels wrong to call you my boyfriend and it feels wrong to call you a friend. We aren’t fuck buddies or friends with benefits. We feel grander than all of it.”

“I would offer the term ‘lover’ or 'beloved', but terms like those are not used nowadays I suppose.” 

“I guess those are closer. I feel when you look at me I am made of glass, that you can see all of me.” Will looks back at Hannibal as he drapes some shirts over his arm, walking to the closet. “You are the surgeon and I am the body on the table, you find what is wrong and you remove it.” _I am in the process of doing so_ , Hannibal thinks. 

Will had described his attacker that morning in great detail, Hannibal hadn’t gotten the chance to sit down and research who it was yet and his fingers itch to do so.

“I don’t have to pretend around you,” Will continues. “Which I found odd at first, out of everyone I know I should feel pressured to be more fake around you. Appear fancier, smarter, what have you. Maybe it’s because you’ve seen me at my weakest- no.” He corrects himself. “I felt that way the first time I saw you, I can’t explain it.”

“You don’t have to, Will.” Hannibal stands and walks over to him. “I understand, I am right there with you. I would have invited you to live with me even without this circumstance. Granted, not this soon, but I would have nonetheless.”

“I know.” Will says softly as he finishes hanging up his clothes. 

“I don’t want you to think of this as my apartment anymore, it is our home.” Will looks up at him, his eyes shine and a faint smile lingers on his lips. “And I want you to feel safe here.”

“I feel safe with you.” Hannibal’s heart aches with Will's words, _you shouldn’t_. 

“I’m glad.” He forces himself to say. 

“I’m going to shower,” Will says after he hangs his last shirt. “Are you joining me?”

“You’re quite a tempting thing, aren’t you?” He muses. “Not today, I have to do research for a project.”

Will frowns but he nods. “What’s for dinner?” He asks as he starts to strip in front of Hannibal, disregarding his clothes in the hamper. 

“Never ask,” Hannibal says playfully, as he watches the layers shed from Will’s body. “Spoils the surprise.” Will shoots a smile over his shoulder as he tosses his boxers into the hamper as well, and turns to lean naked against the bathroom doorway. 

“You sure you’re not joining me?” Will already knows how to play Hannibal like a fiddle and Hannibal feels warmth travel to his face. The bruises have mostly faded from Will’s body, the ones on his wrists stubbornly lasting the longest. 

“You’re _very_ tempting.” Every part of him wants to join Will, but his rational mind stops him. With Will now living with him Hannibal won’t have the privacy he normally depended upon. His windows of opportunity for his 'hobby' now are few and far between. “But it is a very important project.”

“More important than me?” Will jokingly puts a hand to his chest, feigning being offended. 

“Nothing is more important than you.” Will’s teasing expression slips for a second at Hannibal's truthful tone but he regains it quickly. “Have a good shower, I will start dinner once you are done.”

“I’ll think about you, since you are too mean to join me.” Will chuckles softly. 

“Don’t think too much, our bed still needs christening.” Will raises an eyebrow at Hannibal’s words.

“We’ve had sex in it before, Hannibal.”

“I am well aware, but not in our bed. That was in my bed, now it is ours.” Will rolls his eyes with a smile. 

“You are something else.” He closes the bathroom door and Hannibal can hear the water turn on. Hannibal tries to forget about Will, naked and alone in his shower, and heads to the living room. He pulls out his sketchbook and laptop, flipping to the page of Will’s attacker. 

He hopes Will takes long showers.

Hannibal searches through Facebook groups for their college, trying to find the face Will had described in any of the pictures. He goes to Will’s Facebook, which is pretty bare bones, and scrolls through the pictures he is tagged in. He pinches the bridge of his nose when Facebook fails to show him what he wants. Hannibal needs a name. His eyes, against his better judgement, fall to Will’s backpack. Hannibal rises slowly and unzips it. He carefully sorts through it until he finds the small book Will uses to write details about clients. Flipping through the pages he pauses on his own name.

Their first appointment. Their now shared address is written hastily next to it along with his name and phone number. Hannibal continues through it, aware of the sound of the shower running. He turns the page to see his various appointment times one after each other, a couple other names here and there. He turns the page, his name populates it, there were other names but Will had crossed them out. ‘Cancelled’ is written by all the names that were crossed out.

 _“I’ve turned down clients to see you.”_ Will’s words echo in his head. Hannibal pulls out his phone and takes a picture of every page where a client was cancelled on. He slips the book back where it came from and settles back into the couch. 

Hannibal takes his time inputting the names across various social media accounts, thankful that Will book-keeps with first and last names. Once he finds the correct people he knocks them off the list due to their appearance. The sound of the shower turning off cuts through his concentration and Hannibal sighs with a frown, opening a nearby textbook and minimizing the tabs.

His frown fades into a smile when he can see Will walk through their bedroom through the open doorway, a towel wrapped around his waist and skin shining from water droplets. He emerges a couple minutes later wearing just boxers and Hannibal’s red sweater, his favorite sweater, and Hannibal's smile softens. Will walks over and sits next to him on the couch, he smells both like himself and Hannibal. A confusing mixture of Will’s hair products and soap, Hannibal’s aftershave, Will’s natural smell, and the lingering smell of Hannibal on the sweater. 

“You have amazing water pressure.” Will says and Hannibal chuckles softly, closing his textbook. 

“You shaved.” He notes, running his eyes over Will’s clean shave face. Hannibal cups Will’s face with his hand and rubs a thumb over the smooth skin. “As much as I am fond of your stubble, this suits you as well.” He rises and motions for Will to follow him into the kitchen. “I am going to have to draw your face again, because you’ve changed.”

“Surely you have enough drawings of me, aren’t you getting bored with only one subject?” Will grabs a glass, pouring himself some whiskey and leans against the counter. 

Hannibal pulls the salmon fillets from the fridge, not able to remember the last time he willingly made dinner without his meat of choice. But he saw the way Will’s eyes lit up at the selection of fresh seafood at the market Hannibal shops at, one meal here or there without human flesh wouldn’t kill him. 

“I could look at you and draw you everyday, forever, Will. And I would never lose my captivation towards you, overtime your beauty will change. As long as I am in your life I intend to document those changes, it would actually be quite a stunning art installation.” 

“You may not get bored with my appearance, but you will get bored of me.” Hannibal looks over at him and Will shrugs. “It’s the truth," he adds.

“You underestimate your own interestingness, and you underestimate how interested I am in you.” Will swallows some of his drink and Hannibal sets to cooking, he can feel Will’s eyes lingering on every movement he makes. It feels nice and yet so raw to be seen this way, seen almost fully. 

* * *

“Damn,” Will says as he finishes his dinner, setting his fork onto the plate. “That was really good, I haven’t had good fish in so long.”

“You fish, correct?” Hannibal sips his wine as Will nods. 

“I did a lot back home, haven’t had the time here. Too busy with school and work, and now you." Hannibal smiles, imagining himself lounging on a riverbank sketching Will as he stands in the water. "My dad would like this.” Hannibal’s ears perk at the mention of Will’s father. Both of them never mentioned much about their families and Hannibal welcomed the silence, not ready to unpack all his baggage for Will quite yet. “If I brought you home and you cooked this I think he would willingly accept you as family.” Will laughs softly, a bittersweet smile on his face. 

“You father taught you how to fish, didn’t he?” Will nods and downs his whiskey, Hannibal gets to the bottle before him and pours him a refill.

“Thank you, and yeah he did. I haven’t seen him since I left.”

“Would you like to see him again?”

“I don’t know,” Will ponders. “I’m always busy when he is available and vice versa, if he really needs me he can call. We normally have a family get together during Christmas, I haven’t been able to make it the past couple years.” Guilt tugs at Will’s eyes and he downs most of his drink. 

“You mentioned bringing me home, what would your father think of me?” Will laughs and rubs his mouth with his hand, his fingers tugging softly at his bottom lip in a way that makes Hannibal incapable of looking away.

“Well, for one, you would have to dress normally. Dress shirt and jeans at the maximum.” Will laughs again at whatever expression is on Hannibal’s face, he finds it so easy to drop his facade around Will that he no longer calculates every facial expression he makes. “I’m sure he would be cautious, I’m an only child, it comes with the territory. You are extremely wealthy compared to us, it would sit weird with him, someone so rich taking interest in someone like me. But if you didn’t show off your knowledge too much, show you can cook well and that you aren’t just a useless rich kid, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

“He knows you date men then?” 

“I’m sure he suspects, but not officially.”

“And you suspect he wouldn’t mind?”

Will sighs. “It’s not his first choice, me and a man. I’m sure some of our distant family would say shit about it. But he would look at you and be able to see how much you care for me. Over the course of the day it would become obvious to him that you care for me deeper than any of the women I brought home.” Hannibal hides a smile behind his wine glass and sips it, staring at Will's distorted image through it. 

“What about your family?” Hannibal tries not to wince, he did open the door so he cannot blame Will for stepping through it. “Would they like me?”

“My parents are dead.” Hannibal says after a swallow of wine, lacking emotion in his voice. Will’s playful expression falls, a mix of sadness and confusion at Hannibal’s cold tone. 

“Oh,” he says softly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s for the better, I assume,” Hannibal swirls his wine in his glass. “They wouldn’t have liked you anyway, and I wouldn’t have taken that. Do not take offense to that, Will. My parents were elitist, wealthier beyond even what I possess. They would have not taken kindly to me seeing someone ‘below my station’, as they would put it. Even if you were a woman they wouldn’t like you, I cannot imagine what they would say if I arrived home with a man as my lover.” He smiles bitterly, he doesn’t have to imagine, he knows. 

Will looks at him with growing sadness. “I’m sorry.” He repeats and Hannibal meets his eye contact.

“I’ve moved past my parents death.” He takes a sip of wine and then continues. “Is bringing me home something you would consider doing, truthfully?” Hannibal changes the subject, not ready for Will to poke and prod around his family history, not yet anyway.

Will bites his lip softly. “I’m not sure.” Hannibal nods at his transparency. 

“You don’t have to know. We haven’t known each other long, and we still can’t decide on a label.” Will smiles at his words. “I was simply curious.”

“If I wanted to bring you home would you come with me?”

“Without question.” Hannibal stands and clears their dishes, before walking over to wash them by hand in the sink. Will downs his drink and carries the glass over as well, wrapping his arms around Hannibal’s waist. His forehead presses gently against his back, Hannibal leans back into his embrace. 

“I’d be honored to bring you home.” Will whispers against Hannibal’s shirt. 

Hannibal lets out a silent exhale at Will’s touch, only realizing in this moment how long it has been since he had real companionship, and how much he missed it. But he didn’t miss companionship itself, he missed Will’s companionship, even before he knew him. Will is warm against him, his scent wraps around Hannibal like a thick blanket. 

“And I’d be honored to stand beside you, as yours.”


	10. Chapter 10

Will is sleeping in their bed, alone, and Hannibal is in the living room researching to find his attacker. Sending Will to bed by himself while Hannibal is just a room away made him ache, but sacrifices had to be made for his safety. 

After a couple of hours, using Will’s canceled sessions as a guide, he finds Will’s attacker. A wave of adrenaline crashes over him. Hannibal spends the next hour pulling details about him from social media. He is an active poster and very personal, which makes him easier to pinpoint. Hannibal writes down what dorm complex he lives in and his eyes land on his car keys. He stands and strides over to them, he has enough equipment for a kill. Hannibal looks at their bedroom, where Will is hopefully sleeping soundly behind the closed door. He can easily lie about why he left, if Will notices. He passes his keys between his hands, all the brutal and tortuous ways he could kill him swim in his mind. 

Then he frowns, and sets his keys down. Hannibal cannot kill him as brutal as he wants to. The design would surpass all his other violent kills, it would stand out too much, it would scream ‘motive’. Someone surely had seen him, who’s name is John, take Will from the party, someone surely had noticed how unstable Will must have looked. Hannibal had just moved Will out, pointing to the fact he knew about the attack. With good detectives, a thorough investigation, and witnesses coming forward it would point directly to himself.

He wouldn’t leave evidence behind, he never does, but would prefer stay off police radar. Hannibal rubs his forehead and sighs, cursing in Lithuanian under his breath. If Hannibal was going to kill him how he wanted to, he would have to hide him. 

Hannibal walks back to his computer and spends the next few hours cycling through the universities various social media accounts, taking note of any men who look like John. He would have to hide him inside a spree killing, he would lose all importance among the others, if killed all similarly. The school would fall into panic fast, so he would have to kill his main target early on, third seems good to him. He flashes a glance at his watch and to notice that it is almost three in the morning. Hannibal sighs again but closes his laptop and notebook full of his plans written in Lithuanian. 

He puts his things away softly before walking to their bedroom, opening the door and slipping inside. The sight of Will in his bed paints a smile across his face, his reason for doing this, for what he is about to do. Will has sprawled himself out on the bed, taking up most of the room by sleeping in the middle. The sheets are around his waist and he snores softly. Hannibal does his best to undress quietly, pulling on his sleep pants, and laying on his side of the bed. Will grumbles beside him as the mattress moves, but he then rolls onto his other side and repositions his whole body so his head is resting on Hannibal’s chest. 

Hannibal’s smile grows. Will slips deeper into sleep and Hannibal tugs the sheets around them. His mind swells with his future meal preparation plans, what he will make with the many organs he will end up taking, and how to finally rid the world of Will’s monster. 

* * *

The first kill is easy, drunk college kids are such easy targets it almost isn’t fun. Hannibal made sure to grab his first victim from a community college party, so that it wouldn’t arouse as much panic at his own college. All he has to do is lazily flirt with him, which he feels guilty doing, and then gets led to his dorm. 

Once inside he places a hand over his mouth and one on his throat to easily render him unconscious, Hannibal had then duct taped his mouth shut to work in silence. He took his time disemboweling him, breaking both of his hands, and then finally snapping his neck. Hannibal methodically packs away his future dinner in his cooler, before putting it in his backpack along with his supplies. He cleans himself up and looks himself over in the mirror one final time before he slips out into the hallway, heading outside unseen. 

He calls Will once he is in his car. 

“Hey, Hannibal.” 

“You’re just getting done with class aren’t you?”

“Literally ten minutes ago. Did you memorize my schedule?”

“Possibly.” He can hear Will shake his head over the line. “I was worried about you being alone this late, maybe I went a bit extreme.” 

“It’s sweet, if a bit stalkerish.”

“What building are you at?”

“Shouldn’t you know that?” Will teases him.

“I’ll be picking you up, it’s getting dark. I don’t want you walking home.”

“Are you going to lecture me about not taking my car?” Will’s voice asks from the phone. 

“No,” Hannibal says as he drives towards the art building. “However, I am curious why you walked.”

Will is silent on the line and Hannibal glances over to make sure he is still on speaker.

“I wanted to see what you would do.” A wide grin seeps across Hannibal’s lips. “If you were merely humoring me or worried as well.”

“And did I perform in the way you desired?” He can hear Will’s smile and laugh over the line. 

“You did excellent, Hannibal.” Will’s voice slips into something dark and low, it excites him. “Will I be sleeping alone for most of the night again?”

“No,” Hannibal replies with a smile. “I have all the research I need.”

“Good,” his voice is softer. “I plan to reward you for going above and beyond my expectations.” 

“That sounds lovely.” Hannibal parks in the parking lot and clicks his phone off speaker, getting out of his car with the phone pressed to his ear.

“Lovely isn’t the word I would use to describe what I plan to do to you.” Will’s voice is even softer and darker, Hannibal rubs his lips together with a smile. Something he sensed in Will is bleeding to the surface, something terrifying. 

He can’t wait to watch it bloom. 

“I’m here, in the parking lot.” Hannibal says and then the call ends. He exits the car and leans against the driver door, smiling to himself as he waits for Will. Hannibal can spot Will instantly in the crowd of students leaving the door, warmth spreads inside him when Will meets his gaze. 

Will takes his time weaving through the students to get to Hannibal, darkness swimming in his eyes. 

“How was-” Hannibal gets cut off when Will grabs him by the back of the neck roughly, pulling him down for a kiss. Hannibal tenses for a second, public displays of affection always made him uncomfortable, but he quickly relaxes against Will’s lips. His hands hover lightly on his waist as his eyes slip close. 

Will’s cologne is intoxicating up this close, Hannibal wonders that if he ate where Will applied it the scent would be suspended in the flesh. Will slips his tongue in Hannibal’s mouth, running it over his slightly before pulling away, smiling and flushed. 

“-your class?” Hannibal finishes the question he didn’t get to complete. He’s acutely aware of the glances on them, they must look like lovesick teenagers. Every part of Hannibal’s tightly constructive facade and personality shouldn’t like this- it’s too raw, too emotional, and far too public. 

But he looks at Will’s flushed face, the shine of his eyes, and the redness of his lips. And every reserve he should have melts away. Will rounds the car and gets into the passenger’s seat and Hannibal gets in as well, turning on the car.

“If it wasn’t busy I’d probably fuck you right here.” Will’s words surprise Hannibal, it lasts only a second and it fades into a smile.

“Would you now?” He asks as he drives out of the parking lot. 

“Maybe another time, what I have planned needs more room.” Hannibal arches a brow, curious. “You’ll see.” Hannibal rests his hand on Will’s thigh as he drives, rubbing it softly with his thumb. 

“You never said how class was.” Hannibal notes.

Will shrugs, trying to be subtle about moving his legs apart in the seat. “Boring. Just a useless required class. My mind wanders, often.”

“And you think about me?” Both men know it isn’t really a question, Will’s legs twitch a little. Hannibal smiles and continues to rub his thigh softly, figuring he should tease him before they get home, before Will is in control. 

Hannibal can’t remember the last time he let someone else fully control him. 

“Yeah.” His words are breathless, Hannibal slows to a stop at a yellow light watching it turn red. He takes that pause to slide his hand to rub Will right where he wants. 

A surprised moan escapes his lips as his nails dig a little into the leather of the car seat. “Oh, Hannibal.” He smiles at Will moaning his name, eyes glancing from Will to the light. “You’re gonna pay for this.” He is already hard and panting. 

“I do intend to.” He pulls his hand away and places it on the steering wheel when the light turns green. Will lets out an annoyed huff and adjusts himself in his pants. “If you were not planning something for us tonight I would drive us somewhere isolated and, as you put it, fuck you right here.”

“We would have to use my car.”

“Why so? My seats are far more comfortable.”

“Car sex isn’t about comfort.” He speaks from experience and jealousy swims in Hannibal’s mind as he imagines Will having sex in a car with anyone but him. His knuckles whiten around the steering wheel he is now clenching.“Maybe another time.” Will repeats. Hannibal parks in front of his apartment complex and turns off the car. 

“Please wait until we get inside.” Hannibal says as he exits the car. 

“Yeah, it will be incredibly hard.” Will says sarcastically but smiles wide as he grabs his bag and follows Hannibal inside their apartment. Will waits until Hannibal shuts, locks the door, puts his whole cooler in the fridge- knowing he wouldn’t have time to unpack it, and takes off his coat before grabbing him, already unbuttoning his shirt and loosening his tie. He shoves Hannibal against the wall, his chest now exposed by his unbuttoned shirt. Hannibal smiles as Will hungrily takes inventory of his upper body as he sheds the shirt. He waits for Will to make the first move, and he does quickly, grabbing Hannibal’s neck yet again and kissing him roughly. 

Hannibal groans in Will’s mouth as Will’s fingers already undo Hannibal’s belt, sliding it free from the pants. His fingers make quick work of undoing his button and zipper. Will presses against him harder and grabs Hannibal by the hair, yanking it to expose his neck. 

“I think it’s about time I mark you.” Will whispers in his ear before sinking his teeth into Hannibal’s neck while at the same time sliding a hand into his pants, rubbing slowly. Hannibal’s eyes widen and he groans at both pleasures. Will spends his time on Hannibal’s neck, marking it with teeth indentations and red blotches that will grow into suck bruises. His hand is slow and gentle, too gentle. Hannibal groans beneath him and moves to grind against his hand and gets pressed further against the wall. 

“No, no.” Will says, teasingly. “You will do as I say. Do you understand me, Hannibal?” Hannibal nods, his hair a mess from Will’s roughness and cheeks already warm. Will’s grip leaves his hair and finds his throat, squeezing somewhat tightly. “I said,” his grip tightens as his other hand continues to rub. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes.” Hannibal says between groans. 

“Good, good.” Will kisses him softly, which feels out of place. He then pulls away fully from Hannibal, taking a seat in one of the chairs in the living room. Will runs his eyes over Hannibal; messy hair, flushed, and riddled with bite marks. “You know what to do.” Hannibal walks to stand in front of Will, he slowly sheds the rest of his clothing under Will’s extremely intense gaze. Hannibal soon stands naked before him and lets Will look at him, something he would never do with anyone else. 

“I’m sure you are just dying to get started.” 

“Yes, I am.” Will grins as he stands, Hannibal turns to head towards their bedroom. 

“Where are you going?” He is met with a cold tone, he looks behind him as Will walks over to him like a predator. “Did I say we were going into the bedroom?”

Hannibal shakes his head, Will’s lip twitches with anger. Hannibal can tell it‘s calculated anger, but it still grows excitement in his gut. Will wraps a hand around his throat again, squeezing harder than before. Will is just getting bold enough to cut off his air supply a little and Hannibal swallows down a grin. 

“You’re a stubborn thing, aren’t you?” Hannibal nods and the calculated anger in Will’s face grows. He places his other hand onto Hannibal’s chest, shoving him against the closed bedroom door. Will’s other hand then grips on his throat as well. Hannibal strains for air beneath his grip. Hannibal knows his limit, learned it from rendering many unconscious or dead by his hands. 

He is nowhere close to slipping under. He still lets out airy moans as Will continues to choke him, he is slowly increasing the pressure but it isn’t enough. Hannibal focuses on Will’s face, he can see concern growing underneath the facade. It’s almost adorable. Hannibal’s eyelids flutter, and no longer able to help himself, he laughs. 

Will’s facade falls and confusion washes over his face, relenting the grip on Hannibal’s neck but still keeping his hands there. 

“You’re new at this.” Hannibal says after he clears his throat. 

Will pouts. “Is it that obvious?” Hannibal just smiles and he sighs. “I don’t know, I thought you would enjoy it.”

Hannibal’s happiness falters when he can hear the disappointment in Will’s voice. “I do.” Will looks at him unconvinced. “Do I look like a man that suffers through sex or foreplay I don’t like?”

“I guess not.” Will says and before Hannibal can respond he speaks again.“Did I mess this up?”

“Of course not. We’ve never tried anything like this before, you have never dominated me before. It takes time when it’s new. For what it’s worth, you were quite good at the domination side, you’re choking needs some work.”

Will nods.“How so?” 

Hannibal muses internally with words, his hands know what to do, his words don’t. “It’s difficult to explain.”

“Then show me.” He unbuttons the top buttons of his shirt, barring his neck for Hannibal. 

Hannibal’s hands burn at the sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to split this scene in two chapters because of the length, but I'm not cruel so I posted both at once.


	11. Chapter 11

“Are you sure?” Will nods and Hannibal guides him to lean against the door where he once was. “Tap me or the door three times if you need to stop.” Will nods again, Hannibal runs his eyes over the unmarked skin of his neck. He flexes his fingers and locks eye contact with Will, before placing one hand over his throat. Will tenses beneath him, someone not used to being choked, which makes him happy. 

“Relax, Will.” Eventually he does.

“Keep going.” Will breathes out and Hannibal’s grip tightens on his throat, Will’s eyes already widen and he tenses up again. Hannibal slowly applies more pressure, taking in how beautiful he looks like this. 

Fear, pain, and pleasure fight in his eyes and face; unsure of what to feel. His strangled gasps fill the room, as his body heaves for air. _What a beautiful thing you are like this,_ Hannibal thinks as he tightens his grip. His eyelids flutter and his eyes focus on the ceiling, like he does when Hannibal brings him to orgasm. One of Will’s hands moves to grip onto the arm Hannibal is using to choke him, scratching him with his nails. Fear of slipping into unconsciousness overtakes all the emotions in Will’s eyes as his chest heaves and, just as Hannibal assumed would come next, Will taps three times on the door. Hannibal removes his hand and settles it on his waist to steady him. 

Will is gasping for air, face red. Hannibal has to admit to himself that Will lasted longer than he assumed he would.

“Deep breathes.” Hannibal says as Will recovers, watching his heaving breathes steady themselves. “Now, do you understand?” Will nods slowly. Hannibal puts a hand to his throat again, moving him gently to survey the damage. Maybe a red bruise but nothing severe would grow from this. 

“Yeah,” Will coughs. “I do.” He then looks at Hannibal. “You’re really good at that.” 

Hannibal just rubs his lips together and looks at Will, not denying the fact but not explaining it. 

“Well, my plan got off track.” Will chuckles and Hannibal smiles at him. “Now,” Will's tone shifts, it’s dark and sultry again, he walks across the room. “Come here.” Will demands, as much as Hannibal likes being stubborn, he also wants to feed Will’s hunger for him. Hannibal walks to where Will is now standing and Will picks up Hannibal’s discarded, already wrinkled, dress shirt and he pulls the tie free. 

Hannibal smiles, assuming he knows where this is going. 

“May I bind your wrists?”

“Whatever you wish.” Hannibal says, as he offers his wrists out to Will. “I am at your mercy.”

Will grins at him, mainly to hide a blushing smile, and shakes his head. “Not like that, behind you.” Hannibal moves his wrists behind him, like he would if being handcuffed, as if he ever would be. Will walks behind him and wraps the tie around his wrists, tying it tight. “All mine.” Will whispers in his ears, before moving down to bite his neck. 

“I always ways.” Hannibal softly groans and then his eyes widen, feeling Will’s hands grip his ass. 

“You’re beautiful.” Will muses against his neck, running feather light touches over Hannibal’s body. Hannibal shudders and groans at his touch, aching for more. “All of you. You really should draw a nude self portrait, or at least supply me with nude photos of yourself.”

“We live together, why would you need those?” Hannibal groans softly as Will’s delicate fingers run over his skin. 

“Haven’t you ever gotten bored and horny during a class?” Hannibal blinks, shocked by his words. 

“Did you… leave class today to please yourself and think of me?”

"Not this time," Will continues. “Why else do you think I was all over you when you picked me up? All I spent that class thinking about is all the ways I wanted to fuck you.”

“I’m honored.” Will chuckles against his skin. “But even then, why would you need pictures? Didn’t you say you have an overactive imagination?”

“I do. I sometimes favor the real thing.” Hannibal smiles. 

“Well, next time you become bored in a class, just text me.” Will’s fingers stop moving. "I'm sure we could find somewhere secluded."

“Are you messing with me?”

“While holding your mouth shut I could silently bring you to orgasm. I believe I could do it rather quickly. We would just have to have condoms with us.” The idea of having sex with Will in that way fills his mind, how dirty it would be. 

How Will both does and doesn’t deserve such dirtiness. Although it would be a shame not to hear Will’s sounds during sex, that was one of Hannibal’s favorite parts.

“Maybe I will. I’d have to find a secluded bathroom, single stall one. Or even an unused classroom." Will says, mainly to himself. "But for now, get on the floor.”

“Whatever you ask.” Hannibal follows Will into the living room, where Will normally lays to pose. 

Hannibal lays on the floor, finding it uncomfortable with his hands tied behind his back. Will stands above him watching him squirm, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it off. He stares lovingly up at him, watching him undress to loom over him naked. 

Will’s smile falters for a second. “Fuck, I didn’t grab the lube, just a second.”

“There is a bottle in the coffee table drawer.”

“You’re a dirty man, Hannibal Lecter.” Will chuckles as he walks over to open the drawer and find the bottle. 

“I only put it there when you moved in.” Will smiles and moves down on his knees, pouring some on his fingers. “Will, it has been some time since someone dominated me. I don’t let just anyone do so.” 

“And what’s so special about me?” Will rubs his wet fingers over his entrance and Hannibal groans. 

“I view you as an equal.” Will’s facial expression softens, eyes getting glossier. He swallows down the emotion and nods. 

“Thank you.” He stumbles out. And when Hannibal isn’t expecting it Will slides two fingers inside of him. Hannibal groans beneath him as Will works slowly to stretch him open, Hannibal’s chest is already heaving. 

His mind swims to remember the last time someone had this much control over him, Will is making it difficult to think clearly. Will’s fingers are slow and steady as they work him open, before sliding another inside. Hannibal gasps and Will only chuckles.

“I’d like to imagine I am the only person who’s ever seen you this way.”

“You are.” A wide grin sweeps across Will’s face, pride shines in his eyes. He makes sure not to touch Hannibal where he wants, it’s cruel and Hannibal loves it. Will continues to take his time and Hannibal is shaking. 

“I'm sure you want more.” Hannibal nods beneath him, his hair a mess, some sticking to the sweat on his forehead. Will pulls his fingers out slowly, leaving him empty and hollow. He focuses his eyes on Will’s hands as he pours more lube in one of them. Will rubs his dick to get him lubricated enough, a blush is blooming on his cheeks and chest. Hannibal’s hands ache to touch him, he could easily get out of the tie but he doesn’t, he simply watches. 

Will then leans down over him, bending Hannibal’s legs back and pulling them open further. He positions himself and then thrusts in slowly, Hannibal works to keep his body relaxed, to slowly accept Will inside of himself. 

“Are you good?” Will whispers down at him, once fully buried inside him. 

“Yes.” Hannibal licks his lips and Will takes pity on his request, leaning down to kiss him. He starts to move his hips and Hannibal groans into his mouth. Will grabs his thighs to keep him in place as he starts a rough pace, his teeth finding their way back to Hannibal’s neck. 

“You like it as rough as you give it, don’t you?” Will sinks his teeth in again, biting harder this time so he breaks skin. Hannibal groans below him, half hoping something primal snaps in Will, and he keeps biting. How romantic it would be to slowly consume each other, keep each other alive and eat each other bit by bit. Either stopping when they could still survive or dying together, how romantic. Will’s tongue runs over his neck, licking up his blood. 

“Only with you.” Will smiles against his skin and presses his lips to Hannibal’s, Hannibal can taste his own blood on Will’s mouth. He groans into Will’s mouth as his hips continue at their steady, rough pace. Will pulls away from the kiss and grips Hannibal’s thighs harder, starting to work him towards release. Will is hitting every right place, like he has done this before, like they knew each other's bodies forever.

Hannibal groans his name, his lips threaten to say more. He wants to tell Will everything, almost everything, maybe actually everything. Will’s pace picks up and Hannibal arches his back, the next words that tumble from his mouth are in Lithuanian. He tells Will how beautiful he is, how much he means to him, how he is working to protect him. He tells him he loves him. 

Will laughs above him, groaning as well. “Am I fucking you so good you forgot English?” Hannibal smiles lazily up at him. “You should teach me some, you sound beautiful.” Hannibal’s blush grows and he throws his head back with moans, his legs shake around Will and they both know he is getting close.

“Will,” Hannibal says between sighs. “You first.”

Will arches an eyebrow. “Are you sure?” Hannibal nods below him.

"I want to commit you to memory, and currently you are making it very difficult to think clearly." Will chuckles and pride shines brighter in his eyes as he nods. Will moves his hands to grip his thighs differently and his thrusts hit at a slightly different angle. It’s Will’s groans that fill the room, hair falls in front of his face as he focuses on himself. Hannibal stares up at him, transfixed, and moves his body with Will’s the best he can. His fingernails dig into his own wrists drawing blood, he wants to touch him so bad he feels as if his heart is dying. 

By now the room smells of sex and Will’s groans get louder when they finally spill into moans. His chest heaves as he fucks Hannibal purely for his own pleasure. Hannibal groans beneath him, figuring bruises are going to bloom on his thighs from Will’s hands, he doesn’t mind. Will’s fingers on his thighs twitch and Hannibal focuses on his face, watching as his eyelids flutter and his head rolls back. He looks so similar to how he looked when Hannibal choked him, pain and pleasure often blur into one. He lets out a symphony of moans before coming inside of him, Hannibal groans again as he does so. Will smiles down at him as he breathes heavily, he moves down and presses his forehead to Hannibal’s. 

“It doesn’t always have to be me first.” Will breathes out, laying on top of Hannibal. 

“And why not?” His fingers kill to play with Will’s hair, rub his back, anything. Will shrugs against him.

“You are very comfortable, and I’m tired.” Will nuzzles his face into Hannibal’s chest and he laughs. “Yeah, I’m done for today.” Will teases him before kissing his lips. “I’m not _that_ mean.” He moves off Hannibal and grips his thighs again, folding them against his chest more. 

“Would you find it weird if I- ah!- if I drew what you look like as you climax?” Hannibal manages to get out between sounds of pleasure as Will’s hips pick up their brutal pace, having shifted back into his earlier angle. 

“As long as no one else sees it, I guess I don’t mind. Would you need me to pose?” He jokes as he thrusts into him. 

“I could draw you from memory, especially after seeing it another time. You’re so beautiful, I want to memorialize all of you.” Will flushes as he continues, Hannibal moans below him as his legs twitch. Emotion well in Hannibal’s eyes and it surprises Will as much as it does Hannibal, Will leans down to run his thumb over a tear streak. 

“What’s wrong?” He has stopped moving.

“Nothing,” Hannibal shakes his head slightly and looks at him through his wet lashes. “Everything is right, it’s so right.” He looks up at Will, he wants to tell him he loves him, in English this time. But he can’t yet, even though he aches to do so he doesn’t need to. Will knows as he looks down at him. Will kisses him as his hips continue and he stays kissing him through Hannibal’s orgasm and when he finishes, only pulling away when Hannibal is too breathless to continue. Will runs his eyes over the mess that is Hannibal and he tries to imagine what he looks like; flushed, sweaty, hair a mess, neck red with bite marks and bruises, lower chest covered in his own come. 

“You’re quite beautiful yourself.” He lays back down on Hannibal, not caring about the mess. Hannibal kisses his neck, his cheeks, anywhere he can. His nails have dug several bleeding lines into his wrists. “Would you like freedom?”

“Only if you deem me worthy of it.” Will moves off him and pulls out, Hannibal groans as he leaves. 

“You know you a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ will work.” Will says. Hannibal sits up slowly and Will circles him to untie his hands, pulling him to his feet. Both men look at Hannibal’s wrists; the redness around where the tie was and the bleeding scratch marks. “Let’s shower, then go to bed.”

“Whatever you wish.” He cups Will's face kisses him softly, thinking about all the things he told him in Lithuanian, and how he hopes to one day tell him all that in English.

* * *

Hannibal lays with Will in their bed, bodies still splattered with water from their shared shower. He hums happily as he plays with Will’s hair, not fully realizing how much he touches him until he was denied the ability to. Will is scrolling through his phone and Hannibal is reading a book, finding it hard with one hand, but he manages. He can still feel Will's phantom grip on his throat and thighs.

“Were you ever going to tell me you dated Alana Bloom?” Will says, out of the blue. Hannibal looks over at him, whose eyes are still on his phone. Hannibal closes his book and sets it on the nightstand.

“I didn’t view it as an important piece of information to share. Did she tell you?”

“No,” Will responds. “I briefly mentioned your name to Jack, he said it sounded familiar and then remembered you dated Alana.”

“We did date, yes. It was only a couple of months.”

“Did you have sex?” He says as he turns off his phone and sets it on his chest, looking over at Hannibal. 

“Why is that important?”

“Would you like me hanging out with an ex I had slept with?” Hannibal sighs, he wouldn’t. 

“We had sex, yes. And we ended our relationship because we realized we were better as friends." He studies Will's face a little. "Are you jealous of me hanging out with her?”

“I just wish you would have told me, finding out you dated someone I know shouldn’t come from anyone but you, Hannibal.” He has to hide a smile, listening to Will fail to confirm or deny the jealously claim says enough.

“I should have told you, and I apologize for that. But we are simply friends now, as if we never dated at all.” Hannibal says.“I knew she liked me, I knew it would span and ruin our friendship. So I dated her and waited for her to figure out it wasn’t what she needed.”

“You dated her even though you didn't like her?” Will props his head up on his hand, looking at him.

“I liked her, but not in a romantic way. I waited until she made a move, and went from there.” Will looks at him with an unreadable emotion. “And when I dated her we slept at her place.” He adds. “I didn’t lie about that. You are quite possibly first the person I have been with who I view as an equal.” He cups Will’s head with his hand, dragging his thumb over his cheek. “I could wake up beside you for the rest of my days, and never get bored at the sight of you.”

Will’s expression softens, and he leans into his touch. “You can’t say things like that.” He whispers. 

“And why not?” Will looks at him and it clicks in Hannibal’s mind, Will doesn’t think he is worthy enough to be an equal. “Will,” Hannibal says softly, the words swim in his head and none of them seem right, not yet. He leans forward and kisses his forehead. “Aš tave myliu.” He whispers against his skin. He repeats it when he kisses his lips, saying the words into his mouth. Hoping Will can swallow them and believe them. 

Will tries to say it back to Hannibal when he pulls away, he is close but the pronunciation isn’t fully accurate. Hannibal figures he can correct him another time. He pulls Will close to him and Will cuddles against him, pulling the sheets around them.

Hannibal runs his fingers over Will’s back as he slips asleep, thinking of the next person he has to kill before he can kill who he truly wants to kill.


	12. Chapter 12

Hannibal kills another, to divert attention from his true victim who will be killed soon. Hannibal leaves him in his apartment, displayed just like his first one was- disemboweled, twisted and broken hands, with a snapped neck. This one was on his own campus. He smiles to himself as he thinks about the Tattlecrime article that will be posted. 

Hannibal looks over hearing keys in the door lock and smiles, knowing this is about the time Will gets home from his classes. Hannibal is unpacking his most recent kill into their freezer and smiles warmly at Will when he opens the door.

“Hello, my darling.” Hannibal says as Will sets his bag down, locking the door behind him. Will walks over and wraps his arms around Hannibal’s waist as he continues to put their future dinner in the fridge. “Before I forget, input on dinner?”

“Isn’t that like me asking you for input on fixing boat motors?” Hannibal chuckles softly. 

“Possibly, but I still want to make something you like.”

“You know my taste preferences.” Hannibal suppresses a grin. “I’ve never been disappointed by your cooking.”

“I would be devastated to disappoint you.” Will shakes his head lovingly and kisses Hannibal’s cheek. 

“I’ve got some homework, come pull me from it when dinner is ready.” 

Will pulls away and beings on his schoolwork, his textbooks spread out on the living room table. Hannibal he starts on a nice ‘steak’ stir fry for the two of them, the home feeling warmer once Will arrived. Soft music from Will’s computer fills the room along with the noises of Hannibal cooking. He is adjusting the temperature of the stove when Will’s voice cuts through the music.

“Oh, fuck.” Hannibal turns and looks back at him. 

“Everything alright?” Will motions him over and Hannibal frowns as he lowers the heat drastically, hating to leave his food like this. Nonetheless he walks over to Will, sitting beside him on the couch. 

“There’s been another murder,” When Will looks at Hannibal his eyes full with an emotion Hannibal cannot place, it doesn't look like fear. “It happened here, Hannibal, about ten minutes from us.” Hannibal turns his eyes from Will to look at the laptop in front of him, showing the Tattlecrime article Hannibal has been waiting for. 

Hannibal skims the article, taking note of what information he shouldn’t have before he speaks. “It looks like he was killed in the dorms, on campus. We are off campus, Will.”

“It’s still too close. It is still our school. He was killed _in_ his dorm, Hannibal.”

“This is a safe apartment, nothing will happen here.” The article doesn’t note the lack of forced entry. “I will be here to walk you to your classes, pick you up, whatever you need.”

“I appreciate that, I do. But what about you? Our classes don’t always line up, you have a six to nine at night. He could grab you from the parking lot, I don’t want to open Tattlecrime one day and see you.” Hannibal smiles at Will's concern. He hopes the same as well, but not for the reason Will is.

“I can watch out for myself.” Will looks at him unconvinced. “I will start contacting you once my late classes end, so you know I’m safe.” He gets up and goes back to cooking dinner, turning back up the heat and stirring the chunks of a past victim in the pan. 

“You don’t seem concerned about this, Hannibal. They are thinking it’s the Ripper, the guy who killed all those other people at the community college.”

“Becoming panicked will do no good. Especially over something you and I have no control over, the most we can do is stay guarded.” He looks over as Will stands and walks to him, leaning against the counter. “I’m sure the police would love to pin these on the Ripper, no matter if it’s him or not, one active serial killer is better than two.”

“They’re saying he is a student.” Will grabs a glass, pouring himself whiskey. “So he could easily blend in with the crowd. He could walk around campus and no one would know wiser.”

“If it is the Ripper, he is probably from the community college. The murders started there, he is most likely expanding his hunting grounds.”

Will sips his whiskey and nods. “I guess.” Hannibal continues to cook. “I just worry about you.” Hannibal looks over at Will, eyebrows raised to portray confusion. “What? You can worry about me and I can’t worry about you?” 

“I’m simply not accustomed to it.” He says softly and Will’s face falls. He returns to his cooking, feeling an unwelcome pang of guilt from playing with Will in this way.

That dinner doesn’t feed Hannibal’s hunger, nor does the next meals he eats after that. He is as jittery as he was when he was quitting smoking, he wants to kill Will’s attacker. Twisted rage sits in his chest as he goes about his day, waiting for when the time is right.

A couple days pass; the rage inside him only grows. 

* * *

Hannibal slings his bag over his shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up?” Will says and he looks over at him.

“No, but thank you for offering. The class will get done around nine, I must go to the library to study afterwards.”

“You can study here.”

“I can,” he walks over and plants a soft kiss on Will’s lips. “But you are far too distracting, I never get far.” Will smiles against his lips. 

“Text me when you are done with class.” Hannibal nods and waves as he heads out the door, car keys in hand and a wildness in his eyes. Hannibal swallows it down by the time he gets to class, pulling his person suit back on for his lecture. He manages to keep his composure throughout the three hours, even if he is watching the clock more than he normally does. 

Hannibal texts Will as he leaves, saying he is heading to the library. He powers his phone down and tosses it into his bag before he can see Will’s answer. Hannibal smiles to himself as he gets in his car, he has done enough research on John to deduce he lives alone, and that he is an avid smoker. Hannibal pulls inside the complex’s parking lot, and waits for him to exit his dorm for a smoke. Other nights he spent watching from the parking lot, working through his plan, Hannibal learned he stepped out for a smoke quite often. 

Hannibal rummages in his glove box for a box of cigarettes and his lighter, he sighs softly as he thinks about all the years of sobriety going down the drain. This was worth it, though. He opens the pack and waits. It doesn’t take long for his dorm door to open. Hannibal opens his car door, pulling his backpack full of supplies over his shoulder. He puts a cigarette between his teeth, lighting it as he walks to the complex. He glances over at John as he sees him pull a pack from his jacket pocket. 

“Need a light?” Hannibal asks and John looks over at him, he has to fight down the desire just to kill him right then and there. A simple neck snap, it would be so easy. Hannibal swallows down the desire as he holds his lighter up with a controlled smile.

“Actually yeah, thanks dude.” Hannibal lights his cigarette for him, reminding himself to buy a new lighter once this is over. Hannibal leans back against the brick wall by his door, exhaling smoke. “Haven’t seen you around before.” He scans Hannibal up and down. 

“And is that such a bad thing?” Hannibal is wearing the black leather jacket he hasn’t worn in years, it’s attractively tight on him. 

“I don’t think so.” Hannibal takes another drag to drown down the bile rising in his throat, making small talk with Will’s attacker makes his stomach churn. “Just curious why I’ve never seen you around before.”

“Maybe you have simply never noticed.”

“I think I’d notice you.” John tosses the cigarette to the ground and stomps it out before walking to stand in front of him. Hannibal is slightly taller as he looks down at him, keeping his composer as he takes another drag. Then there are hands on his hips, fingertips slowly nudging his shirt up to touching the skin beneath it. Hannibal forces every muscle in his body, every reflex he has, not to snap his neck. John pulls the cigarette from Hannibal’s mouth, tossing it away. 

_How many others were there?_ Hannibal thinks as John closes in for a kiss. Hannibal turns his head teasingly, it becoming suddenly clear how bare his own neck is.

“I think you have to earn that.” Hannibal says and then he is met with his hair being grabbed just rough enough for it to sting, pulling him to meet John’s eye contact. 

“Do I, now?” John tugs him forward by his hair before grabbing his wrist and pulling Hannibal to his door. “I think I’m going to like you.” Hannibal suppresses his anger, it shakes within his bones. John opens his door and pulls Hannibal inside, Hannibal closes the door behind him. 

“I actually don't think you are going to.” Hannibal says, his free arm seizes John's neck as his other hand clamps over his mouth. Hannibal’s forearm presses down on his neck harder as he struggles. He may be stronger but Hannibal is more determined, more skilled, and more motivated. He soon falls limp in his hands. 

Hannibal sets him in a chair and sets to work tying him in the chair with rope he had brought with him, duct taping his mouth shut. He sheds his leather jacket and slides into his plastic suit, tensing his fingers inside the plastic. Hannibal walks over and sits in the chair opposite him, waiting for him to wake. 

When he finally wakes excitement builds in Hannibal. John’s eyes dart around the room before landing on Hannibal. 

“If you cooperate this will go easier for you. The more you struggle the longer this lasts.” Hannibal taps his own lips softly with the tip of his knife, a faint smile on them. “Scream, and the more painful this will become. These are the terms.” He stands and walks over, pressing the blade lightly to his neck as he removes the duct tape. Hannibal wishes that he had a soundproof room by now, a house of his own to perform his hobbies in. 

Hannibal pulls his chair closer to John, he sits back across from him but keeps the blade touching lightly on his throat. “Do you know why I am here?” John shakes his head, tears welling in his eyes. “You should. You have extremely surpassed my scale for rudeness, and I believe the world will be safer without you.”

“Do you want money? I have money.” Hannibal just chuckles. 

“You all always offer money.” His face then pales as he stares at Hannibal, at the knife in his hand, his calm composure, his equipment- it all screams ‘experienced’.

“Oh shit.” Tears roll down his face and Hannibal just smiles wider.

“Even I would never dare to stoop to your level of crime.”

“Look,” he says as he steadies his sobs. “I don’t know what you think I’ve done-”

“I know you have hurt someone I love.” The words surprise Hannibal as they leave his lips that easily, but he shakes it away quickly. “You’ve hurt him deeply. I don’t take kindly to those hurting the people I love.”

“I don’t know what your boyfriend or whatever told you, but you have the wrong guy.” Hannibal moves the blade away and unzips his suit enough to pull his sketch from his pocket, the one from Will’s description. He shows it to John and he pales more. 

“I am quite confident this is you.” He returns it to his pocket, zipping his suit back up. “Now, does the name Will Graham bring a change of mind?”

“That model boy?” Hannibal’s jaw tightens. “Is that what this is about?” He laughs and Hannibal looks at him curiously. “I’m sorry that you have to find out this way but your boyfriend is a slut.” Hannibal’s fingers tighten around his blade, he understands now. If John can’t talk himself out of being with Will sexually, he will talk Hannibal into believing it is consensual. A good plan, but one Hannibal would never fall for. “Fine, I banged him. What did he say? That I raped him? Oh come on, that’s pathetic.” 

Hannibal watches his face, he is a convincing liar but not enough. His face lies along with his words but his eyes give him away, they swim with fear. “He wanted it, so I gave it to him.”

“I have seen the bruises.”

“He wanted it _rough_.” Disgust rises inside Hannibal and he pushes it down. 

He rubs his face with his free hand, pretending to believe everything he is being told. 

“I’m sure you would like to do what I did with him.” His words catch him off guard and Hannibal lowers his hand to look back at him. “You’re just jealous he won’t let you rough him up, so you’re taking it out on me. You’d like it. He’s so vocal.” Something snaps inside Hannibal, he rises from his chair quickly and the back of his hand meets John's face, hard. So hard that Hannibal is forcing his joints back into their proper places afterwards. He lets the rage finally surface to his face. 

“That really is a good story. A lesser man would have bought it, I am sure lesser men have. But I know my Will, and I know men like you.” He sneers as he grabs the duct tape and wraps it around his head multiple times, to keep his mouth shut. Hannibal unties him from the chair only to shove him on the floor, his knife first meets the palm of his hand, slicing through it and stabbing the blade into the floor. Hannibal gets up and walks over, picking up the chef’s knife wrap he uses to store his tools. He walks back over and repeats the process with the other hand. 

“I’m sure you’d be vocal as you claim he is, it’s a shame. The screaming is one of my favorite parts, one of many.” He grabs another knife and cuts open his shirt, baring his chest. “You are going to watch exactly what is happening to you and be unable to stop it.” Hannibal stabs the blade into his chest, slitting it open slowly and painfully, for once he doesn’t care about damaging the organs. Hannibal takes his time as he slowly removes organs, starting with the least vital. 

Hannibal makes it a practice to show him each and every organ, explaining the various functions, and stabbing him in various weak points to shock him back awake. Hannibal looks down at his heart beating in his chest, one of the few organs left. The beats are slow and weak, he ponders how beautiful it would look cooked and served to Will.

Hannibal rises from where he was kneeling next to him to stand by his hand, he removes one blade and places his foot on his forearm. He grabs his hand and twists hard, various bones snap, he twists the other way as more bones break. Hannibal drops his limp hand to the ground, still connected by skin, but all the bones inside the wrist broken. 

“It used to be custom to chop off the hands of thieves, but I think this works much better. Don’t you?” John is unable to control his hand no matter how hard he tries and Hannibal smiles at his pitiful attempt. “I think this drives the message home harder.” He walks over and repeats the process on the other hand, leaving it just as limp and broken as the other. “You still have your hands, but you are incapable of taking anything again.” Hannibal kneels back down beside him, picking up his knife. 

“You don’t have much else left, besides your heart.” Hannibal places his hand on the exposed heart, feeling the weak beats. “It feels wrong for you to have one, knowing what you have done.” Hannibal moves and cuts away the duct tape with his knife. “Screaming is pointless, even if medics find you in time they cannot save you. Now answer me something. Will told me you called him your favorite. How many others were there? How many victims?”

“17.” He says weakly, Hannibal drops the knife to the floor and presses the tape back on his mouth with his now free hand. Again, something snaps inside Hannibal. He grips roughly and jerks his other hand violently, and his heart comes with it. Hannibal simply stares at the organ in his hand as it beats, wondering if this is how God feels.

“You don’t deserve this.” Hannibal says as he holds the organ near his face. “And, truthfully, you do not deserve to be eaten by me. But I will take your organs nonetheless.” Hannibal stands, setting the heart down, and walks beside his head. “As much as I’d like this to last longer, I shouldn’t keep my lover waiting.” Hannibal takes a hold of his neck and finally snaps it, a mercy he doesn’t deserve. 

Hannibal smiles as he packs his organs up, putting all his weapons away and cleans himself up. He slings on his leather jacket and slides his backpack full of his supplies and John’s organs over his shoulders before walking to the door. Hannibal takes one last look back at the mangled body of Will’s attacker, his smile grows as he slips out into the darkness. He spends a couple minutes finding his cigarette butt on the ground and pocking it as he walks to his car, not being stupid enough to leave evidence that damming behind.

Hannibal fishes his keys from his pocket as he stands in front of his apartment door, figuring he will put his tools away, put the meat in the fridge, and put himself in bed beside Will. Hannibal unlocks his door and slips inside, locking it behind him once inside.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Will’s voice shakes him from his concentration. Hannibal sets his bag down slowly and looks over to where the voice came from. Will is sitting on their couch with a glass of whiskey. “It’s almost two in the morning. I’ve been texting you and calling you. And nothing.”

“I turned my phone off when I got to the library.” Hannibal explains as he pulls his phone from his bag, turning it on. When it powers on he is welcomed by 13 texts and 2 missed calls from Will. Hannibal taps into his messages and scrolls through them, skimming the progression of worry. He sighs and puts his phone away. “I’m sorry, Will. I was focused on my work and simply lost track of time.”

“You had me worried fucking sick. I thought you got grabbed by that serial killer.” Will sets the glass down and stands, arms crossed. “If I didn’t respond for almost five hours you would be freaking out, don’t even deny it. I even texted Alana.” Hannibal’s brows meet with feigned confusion as he looks at Will. 

“You reached out to Alana?” Hannibal asks.

“I was paranoid, Hannibal.” Will sighs and rubs his face. “I guess I let my mind spiral too much.”

Hannibal keeps his eyes on Will but his mind flicks to his backpack, and the human meat sitting inside it that should be put away. Will takes a step towards him, pressing his head into Hannibal’s chest.

“Just don’t do that to me again.” Will whispers against him and Hannibal smiles softly as he looks down at Will. The words of what he did for him and why he was really late linger on his tongue, but he swallows them. Will suddenly grabs the front of his shirt and pulls it, inhaling. Hannibal curses in Lithuanian internally. 

“Have you been smoking?” Will takes a step away from him and looks at Hannibal as he starts to respond. “My dad smoked my entire childhood, don’t even think about lying to me.”

“Yes.” Hannibal says as he looks at him. “I am extremely stressed about my upcoming-”

“So,” Will cuts him off. “You can take enough time to step outside and have a smoke break and not look at your phone?” Hannibal sighs as he looks at Will, shaking his head. 

“I smoked in the car on my way here. I’m stressed about my exam, Will. It’s an old habit that-”

“Bullshit.” Will pulls away from him. “I’ve never seen you worried about school since I have known you, I’ve never seen you as much as bat an eyelash about school work. I don’t believe you, Hannibal.”

“Then tell me, Will. What do you believe happened?” Hannibal takes a step towards him, looking at him inquisitively. 

“You could have seen Alana and smoked to cover up the scent. I really don’t want to imagine that you would need almost five hours with her.”

“Will, you spiraled far.” Hannibal looks down at him. “Do you truly believe I stepped out on you? Especially with someone you know? I hope you don’t view me that low, and that miscalculating.”

“I have an overactive imagination, Hannibal. You know that.” Will sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I was either imagining you being brutally murdered or sleeping with someone else.”

“And you decided to be more concerned about being cheated on than me being murdered?” Hannibal’s smile flickers on his lips as he looks at Will. 

“That would hurt more.” Hannibal’s eyebrows raise upwards, truthfully interested. “Don’t get me wrong, if you got killed I’d be devastated. But betrayal always hurts more than sadness ever will.” Hannibal smiles down at him, cupping his face softly. 

“Will, I would never dream of betraying you. And I hope you can extend the same for-” Will tilts his head and kisses him, cutting him off. 

“Of course. Rationally, I knew you wouldn’t. But I wasn't being rational.” He sighs. “Let’s just go to bed.”

“Did you even sleep without me?” Hannibal asks as Will walks to their bedroom door. 

“I tried but couldn't get to sleep.” He shrugs. “The bed felt weird without you, colder somehow.” Will walks into the bedroom and Hannibal smiles to himself, remembering all those nights he couldn’t sleep without Will beside him. Once the bedroom door closes Hannibal quickly unpacks once what was Will’s attacker into their fridge, and puts his equipment back into his living room closet before locking that door. When Hannibal walks into the bedroom and is met with Will already in the bed, pulling off his shirt. Hannibal circles the bed and stands before Will, cupping his face with both hands.

“I will never betray you. You mean more to me than you could possibly know, Will. I have done so much for you and I will continue to do anything you need. I don’t think you truly understand that.” 

“I do.” Will blinks up at him as he speaks, eyes glistening. “You’ve done more for me than anyone else has. But that doesn’t mean my mind doesn't take me to the darkest places I can think of, no matter how illogical it is.” 

“Hopefully next time I am here to drag you out of it.”

“I couldn’t do that to you." His voice is almost too soft to hear. "I can’t drag you into my darkness, Hannibal.”

“I believe I can get there on my own. And I’ll appreciate the company.” Will smiles brightens up at him. 

“Let’s hope you can handle it.” Hannibal chuckles softly and Will kisses the palm of his hand, before pulling away to lay down. Hannibal walks to his dresser to change, hanging his jacket back in his closet. “You should wear that leather jacket more. You look really hot.” 

“Do I?” Hannibal turns to look back at him, Will nods in bed. “Anything you ask of me, I will happily comply with.” _I just want him gone,_ Will’s tear soaked words echo in his head. “Anything.” Hannibal turns off the lights after changing and climbs into bed, resting his head on Will’s chest. Before Will slips asleep he plays with Hannibal's hair softly, something Hannibal wouldn’t let anyone do before Will.

Hannibal spends most of night listening to Will’s heartbeat, remembering how he had held the heart of Will’s attacker in his hand. Under different circumstances he would have wanted Will to be holding that heart, he figures it would have been quite romantic. Something he can save for another time. Hannibal sighs happily as he listens to the steady thumping in Will’s chest, wondering if one day their hearts will beat at the same rhythm. So even when they are not by side by side they will still be tethered to one another, by blood and muscle.


	13. Chapter 13

Hannibal wakes to fingers weaving their way through his hair, he looks up to find Will already awake and gazing down at him lovingly. Hannibal had fallen asleep against his wishes, and this was the first morning Will had awoken before him. His kill took more out of him than he presumed. 

“Sleep well?” Will asks and Hannibal nods, head still on Will’s chest. 

“I should get up, make us breakfast.” Hannibal tries to sit up but the hand resting on his waist holds him on the bed. 

“Stay.” Will murmurs. “We can skip breakfast, just coffee.”

“Breakfast is the most important meal of one's day, Will.” Hannibal says even as he nestles his head back on Will’s chest. “But for one day, I will allow it.

“You slept longer than you normally do.” His words aren’t an accusation, just an observation and Hannibal nods against him again. “I liked it.” Will continues to play with his hair and Hannibal lets him. Both men stay entangled in their bed, the only sounds that fill the room is their steady breathing and Will’s heartbeat in Hannibal’s ear. 

Eventually he manages to get Will out of bed with him. Hannibal makes them coffee in the kitchen, still in his sleep clothes. 

“Thank you,” Will says as he takes the mug Hannibal hands him. Will is wearing one of Hannibal’s sweaters. Will threads his fingers through one of Hannibal’s hands and Hannibal continues to pour his own coffee with his other, finding it somewhat challenging with one hand but adamant about not slipping his hand from Will’s. He leads Will over to the couch where they finally break hands once they sit. Will leans against Hannibal as he turns on the TV, sipping his coffee slowly. Hannibal works on a sketch of Will without needing to glance beside him, he could draw Will with his eyes closed. He drowns out the sounds of the TV as he focuses on his drawing, the combination of the warm coffee and Will’s body heat pressed against him makes it easy to relax. 

Hannibal isn’t sure how long they have been sitting like this, their coffees are finished but Will stays curled up against him. His sketchbook page shows Will in various poses, ones he needs for his contest submission. The sound of a sharp intake of breath beside him shakes Hannibal from his concentration, he looks over to see Will staring wide eyed at the TV. Hannibal shifts his gaze over and it becomes apparent why, the news is reporting on the murder of John. 

“Oh my god.” Will's voice is soft as he looks at the TV. 

“Is everything alright?” Hannibal’s voice slips into a calculated concerned tone. 

“I,” he starts. “That is- that was, that was who-”

“The man that attacked you?” Hannibal finishes for him and Will nods. 

“He’s dead.” Will’s face cannot decide on an emotion; it shifts between happiness, confusion, and surprise. “Why does that name sound familiar?” Will asks himself and then gets up and walks over to his backpack, rummaging through it before he walks back with his small notebook. Hannibal keeps his eyes on Will but his ears on the TV, listening to how they deem him another victim of the Ripper. Will sits back down beside him and flips through his book, Hannibal watches, knowing what he will soon find. 

He wonders if he should have doctored Will’s bookkeeping.

“Oh, oh god.” The tone is different this time, as he stares at his book. “I cancelled on him.” Anger washes over his face as he turns to look at Hannibal. “Is that why he did it? Because I fucking cancelled on him?” Will tosses the book onto the coffee table and rubs his face with both hands.

“Possibly,” Hannibal says beside him. Will puts his head in his hands and sighs, Hannibal speaks again before Will can. “He would have likely attacked you if you didn’t cancel, if you had a session with him I’m sure he would have found a way to hurt you. I imagine it could have been much worse if events transpired that way.”

“Maybe,” Will mumbles. “Maybe not.”

“Will, look at me, please.” Will does so, slowly. “You must not blame yourself, I know you will want to. But nothing of what happened to you was your doing.” He nods slowly, his face reflecting his struggle to believe Hannibal’s words. “All that matters is that he cannot hurt you anymore. Come here.” Hannibal sets his sketchbook on the table and presses his back against the arm of the couch, pulling Will to back lay against him between his legs. Will lays with his back against his chest and sighs again. 

“He’s dead.” Will repeats, trying to ground the words in reality. “The Ripper killed him.” 

“That’s what the news believes.” Hannibal wraps his arms around Will’s waist as Will rests his head in the crook of his neck. 

“Too bad he got to him this late,” Hannibal looks down at him, interested. “You wouldn’t have to be paying for my rent.”

“Even with him gone I am happy to continue paying, I am not sending you away because he is dead. This is your home, if you want it to be.”

“I want it to be.” He turns to press a soft kiss to Hannibal’s neck. “I almost want to thank him, the Ripper.” Even though Hannibal medically knows better he could have sworn his heart stopped, he parts his lips and looks down at Will. He looks at his hands that are settled around Will, how close they are pressed together. He cannot be fully certain Will would still want his hands on him, if he knew what they have done. He closes his mouth. 

“If he ever gets arrested you could write him a letter.” Will laughs. 

“What would I say? ‘Hey, you don’t know me but thanks for killing my rapist’?” He chuckles again and stays close to Hannibal. 

“That sounds sufficient to me.”

Hannibal notices a lack of tension in Will’s posture as he sketches him later that day, pride swells in his chest. Will stands before him shirtless. 

“I thought you had the poses you needed for the contest.” Hannibal flicks his eyes to Will’s face. 

“I do, but I need an Achilles to your Patroclus. I mainly need your body as a reference.” He looks back down at his paper, lying to Will has gotten so easy. 

“I know you said you don’t draw self portraits, but, you could draw yourself as Achilles.” Hannibal’s pencil stops on his paper and for a second he considers Will’s suggestion, how utterly beautiful it would be. But it isn't what he needs, it won’t say the message he wants. He nods, pretending to still be musing over the idea. “Or do you just like to stare at me?”

“Can you blame me?” He looks up at Will, watching the red that grows across his cheeks. Getting Will to blush has gotten so easy, and he still enjoys it each time. “This should be all I need for today, thank you.” Will pulls Hannibal’s sweater back on and sits beside him on the couch. Gently taking Hannibal’s sketchbook from him without asking, and Hannibal doesn’t mind. 

“If you don’t win I am going to be very upset. Not just for you but, it's also my beauty on the line.” He chuckles through his words, unable to keep a straight face. 

“I believe I won’t have much competition that is on the same level as my art.”

“Can I see the full piece? You mentioned already starting on the final product.” 

“Of course not.” Will's smile falters at his words and his eyebrows knit together in surprise. “I want to see the look on your face the first time you see it, and I want that time to be in the gallery while I stand beside it.” His smile quickly returns and Will nods. 

“Will I need to dress up for the event, I don’t own much dress clothes, if any.”

“I am sure I can accurately guess your size, given how informed I am with your body. I will pick you up a suit, classic black. And do not protest, I will buy you one no matter your protests.” Hannibal rises from the couch to walk to his desk, setting his sketchbook and pencils down. He mentally rifles through the various suits in his closet, knowing whatever suit he wears should compliment the one he buys for Will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update is a bit late, school has been crazy.


	14. Chapter 14

Hannibal leans against the brick wall of one of the many art buildings, waiting outside for Will to be done with his class. He lights a cigarette and deposits his lighter back into his pocket. He scans the campus as he takes a long and slow drag, a drag he is annoyed he still enjoys. 

“I thought you quit those.” A voice from behind him says. 

Hannibal exhales, then turns behind him and represses a sigh. 

“Hello Randall.” Randall smiles softly and leans against the wall beside Hannibal. Before Will Hannibal would have considered Randall the closest thing to a relationship he had on campus. The more Hannibal looks at him the more he reminds him of Will, they are both similar in age and appearance. But unlike Will Randall knew, not everything, but he knew.

“Haven’t seen you around in a while, you’ve been avoiding me.” Hannibal puts out his cigarette on the brick wall before throwing it away, shaking his head. 

“I have not been avoiding you.” _I have not thought once about you since we parted_ , Hannibal thinks. “I simply have been busy.”

“Hannibal!” Will’s voice cuts through the tension and Hannibal turns to see Will with his bag and a smile. 

“Clearly.” Randall mutters under his breath as Hannibal walks away from him towards Will. 

“How were your classes today?” Hannibal asks as Will takes his hand, lacing their fingers. He can feel Randall’s eyes on him, on their conjoined hands. 

“I will see you around, Hannibal.” Randall says, catching Hannibal’s attention, before walking away. 

Hannibal gently rubs his thumb against Will’s hand as they walk to his car, he knows Randall’s anger all too well. 

“Who was that?” Will asks once they are inside Hannibal’s car. “An old friend?”

“No one important.” Will looks unconvinced as Hannibal starts the car, he sighs. “Once important but no longer.”

“So, he’s an ex?” Hannibal nods slowly, keeping his eyes on he road.

“In a way, however, we were never as official as you and I are. You have nothing to concerned over.” Will laughs and his hand finds Hannibal’s thigh, resting softly. Almost to say ‘I have you, you're mine’.

“When did I say I was concerned?” Will asks and Hannibal only smiles as a response as he drives them home with the warm comfort of Will’s hand on his thigh.

* * *

“Shit.” Will mumbles, Hannibal looks up from his book to watch Will rub his face with one of his hands while his other holds his phone.

“Is something the matter?” Hannibal asks.

“Yeah,” Will gets up and grabs his bag. “One of my professors needs to see me, nothing bad, don’t worry. But I really need to go.” Hannibal stands as Will shrugs on his coat.

“Would you like me to drop you off?”

“No, no. I’m okay.” Hannibal watches Will tug on his boots and bites the inside of his lip. 

“I don’t want you walking around campus this late.”

“I’ll be fine,” Will walks towards Hannibal. “I promise.” Will digs into his pocket and pulls out a pocket knife, flicking it open to show Hannibal the sharp blade. Hannibal glances at the glint of the knife before looking back at Will.

“With the recent attacks,” Hannibal watches Will put the knife away and grabs his keys. Randall flashes in his mind and he pushes it away. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“It's not a long walk, I’ll be fine. Don’t wait for me to start dinner, just save me some leftovers.” Will opens the door with a smile and then he is gone. Hannibal stands in the living room hearing Will lock the door and listens to his footsteps fade down the hallway. All he can think of is the mangled bodies Francis has left behind.

To keep himself from pacing around their apartment or stalking Will he starts cooking the most complicated dish he can think of, a recipe he doesn’t know from memory. It helps for the most part, he grips his knife tighter and cuts more brutally at the meat before him. He is almost done with their dinner by the time he hears keys in the lock, Hannibal breathes a sigh of relief as he continues cooking. 

“You are lucky I chose a complicated…” Hannibal pauses, the smell of blood is overwhelming. He turns slowly to find Will closing and locking the door, he faces Hannibal with a smile and a black eye. Hannibal doesn’t even think to take the pan off the stove or turn off the heat before walking to Will.

“What happened?” He demands. “Who did this to you?” 

“It doesn’t matter, Hannibal.” Will chuckles, somewhat nervously, as he tries to walk around Hannibal. Hannibal is too shocked to even hide his emotions traveling to his face, he looks at Will in disbelief before gripping his upper arms tightly. 

“This doesn’t _matter_?” He questions with twinges of anger, Will looks up at him and shrugs in his grasp. Hannibal takes a deep breath before he continues. “Who hurt you?”

“I don’t know,” he finally says. “Someone tried to mug me on my way back home, they got a punch in and I got a few more.” Hannibal runs his hands down Will’s arms until he gently raises Will’s hands to study them. His knuckles are already bruising, skin broken and bleeding. Hannibal runs his thumb over his knuckles slowly, Will winces but he doesn’t pull his hands away. The damage he incurred is the result from something more brutal than a few punches.

“Sit down, please." Hannibal's tone is calm and smooth again as he studies the bleeding hands of his lover. "I’ll wrap them for you.” Will nods and Hannibal vanishes to grab the first aid kit from his bathroom. When he emerges Will is standing at the stove, his back to him, slowly turning down the heat. Feeling eyes on him, Will turns to face Hannibal. 

“I didn’t want it to burn.” He says simply and Hannibal swallows down the emotions rising in his throat. 

“Thank you,” he says softly as he walks over and Will takes his seat at the table. Hannibal sets the kit down and grabs a bowl and rag of the kitchen, filling the bowl with warm water. He pulls a chair closer and sits down, taking Will’s hand gingerly and dipping it into the water, washing the blood from it. 

“I shouldn’t have grabbed you,” he starts before moving to Will’s other hand. “I apologize. I don’t... handle people hurting those I care about well.” Will watches him closely, he knows there is a story behind Hannibal’s words, but he doesn’t ask. “Do they hurt?” He pulls Will’s hands onto a towel and dries them gently. 

“Yeah.” Will breathes out. “I hit his face and made contact with bone.” Something else is hidden beneath Will's words, he isn't lying but he isn't telling the full story. It fascinates Hannibal.

“If they hurt in the morning we will go to the hospital.” Hannibal unravels some gauze and begins to slowly wrap his hands, watching Will's face carefully.

“Can’t you set a broken bone, Doctor?” Hannibal’s breath hitches in his throat, the way Will says 'doctor' is akin to seduction.

“I am not a doctor, not yet." Will's gaze feels like home. "But I could, if necessary. The last thing I would want is to damage them anymore.” He brings Will’s bandaged hand to his lips and gently kisses over his knuckles, planting a soft kiss on each one. Will smiles as Hannibal bandages the other hand, wincing every so often. 

“You arrived home at a good time, dinner should be done.” Hannibal stands up holding his first aid kit. “I will put this away then plate dinner.”

“I’ll set the table, you’ve done enough for me tonight.” Will stands, kisses his cheek and begins to set the table as Hannibal leaves, feeling warmth spread inside of him.

* * *

Will’s hands feel like they are burning Hannibal when they have sex that night. The small parts of skin exposed through the bandages feel like blades slicing him open as Will holds him down. Each touch has more knowledge than Will’s hands had ever before, knowledge that only comes with dismemberment. The knowledge that comes from twisting bodies open, breaking them apart to see how they work. The same burn he is sure his own hands have.

Hannibal audibly winces when Will bites down on his neck, and Will doesn’t stop. Something has been unlocked deep within him and he is blooming before Hannibal’s very eyes. Hannibal's wrists are tied to their bed frame with one of Hannibal’s expensive ties, Will loves the control and power.

Will kisses over the bite marks he has left on his neck, slowly moving up towards his lips.

“You’re mine.” Will breathes into his mouth before kissing him and Hannibal nods beneath him as he kisses back. “Mine.” Will repeats, it sounds almost like a growl. He splits Hannibal’s lip open with ease, running his tongue over the wound.

“There is no one else’s I’d rather be.” Hannibal moans as he gazes at Will. He is sure he will get a noise complaint from his neighbor in the morning.

Later that night Will’s arms are wrapped possessively around Hannibal’s waist as they both breathe heavily, legs still entangled. 

“I think that was a record.” Will says against Hannibal’s chest and he laughs. 

“I think you are correct,” Hannibal smiles down at Will with the want to play with his hair. “Beloved, are you going to untie me?” Will moves on his chest to look up at Hannibal with a grin. 

“No," Hannibal raises his eyebrows. "I like you like this.” Will kisses his chest as he tugs the sheets around them and leans over to turn off the bedside light. 

“I am going to be quite sore in the morning, aren’t I?” Will rests his head back on his chest and nods.

“In more ways than one. I’ll massage your shoulders tomorrow, as repayment.” Will mumbles before falling asleep. Hannibal watches Will sleep lovingly in the darkness, he could have sworn there was still blood lodged underneath Will’s fingernails.


	15. Chapter 15

Hannibal wakes that morning with his wrists still tied to the bed frame. He smiles softly as he gazes down at Will, still asleep and holding him tightly. The sunlight streams into their bedroom and casts a warm glow over him, an angel who still smells of blood. 

“Will, my beloved?” Hannibal asks and Will stirs slightly but feigns sleep. “I would like to start breakfast.”

“Then start it.” Will mumbles in response. Hannibal cannot help but smile. He pulls his wrists against the restraint holding him to the bed frame, causing it to hit against the wall. Will’s eyes snap open and he jerks upward, hair a frizzy mess from sleep, and begins fumbling to untie the tie. 

“Shit, I totally forgot," he unties Hannibal quickly. Will gently runs his fingertips over the red marks on his wrists that will definitely bruise. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Apologies are unnecessary.” Hannibal studies the marks on his wrists as Will watches him, genuinely concerned. “I could have freed myself, but I was not in the mood for breaking my thumb.” Will chuckles softly as Hannibal sits up fully in bed, soreness twinges at his body, both from being tied to the bed overnight and their sex. “Speaking of, how are your hands?”

“They hurt still. Last night probably wasn’t the best for them.” Will looking down at his hands, there is bruising and swelling around his knuckles.

“I will start breakfast, you go and shower and afterwards I will rewrap them for you.” Hannibal kisses his cheek softly before getting out of bed.

Hannibal is finishing breakfast by the time he can hear the shower turn off, the tv playing softly in the background. 

“And this morning we have saddening news,” the news anchor states as Hannibal is plating their breakfasts. “Another student was found murdered on campus, the Chesapeake Ripper had been silent for a little while but it appears he has come back with a brutality.” Hannibal freezes. He mentally runs through the list of everyone he has killed and all of their displays have been found already. 

Rage surges through Hannibal’s body before he can stop it. How dare someone use his name for their own pathetic murder. He abandons their meals and walks over to the living room.

“The student who was murdered was found mutilated in the skeleton exhibit inside of the history building on campus.” Hannibal pulls out his phone quickly and opens Tattlecrime, he has to see pictures. Good for him that Freddie works fast. There was an article posted a couple hours ago, Hannibal ignores the text and scrolls to the photos.

The body of a young man is extremely mutilated, it is bloody and violent but also messy- someone less informed on the human body. It is rushed and panicked but also careful and perfected, a complicated mix of traits for one murder display to have. Definitely a fledgling killer. The victim is stretched over an animal skeleton, making him an animal in himself. Hannibal scrolls further and the air is almost knocked from his lungs.

He can see the man's face, stretched over the animal skull, and it’s Randall. Even bloody and mutilated he can see that it was Randall. Confusion swims in his brain. Randall was prone to his own bloody, brutal, and brilliant violence and the fact that someone could overpower and kill him sends a chill through Hannibal's system. Randall as the victim is no accident, he is certain it was a purposeful choice. Hannibal stares at the murder display, paying attention to the way the body was broken apart and horrifically laid on top of the skeleton. Amateur work aside, there is a beauty behind it- the murder itself seemed rushed and yet the mutilation and display would have taken hours.

The display is for someone, Hannibal assumes it is for him.

 _“You’re mine.”_ Will’s possessive nature last night floods his brain as his eyes drift from the crime scene photos to the bruises that are slowly forming on his wrists. Will marked Hannibal as his own in a way he has never before, to show to anyone and everyone that Hannibal is his.

Will's hands knew his body better last night, the same way Hannibal's hands know Will's body- a knowledge only gained from breaking bodies apart. He swallows at that thought, images of Will murdering Randall flood his brain, of him bloody and out of breath. He would have looked so _beautiful_. Hannibal slides his phone away slowly and returns to setting the table just as Will pads into the kitchen with damp hair, wearing only boxers.

“Hope you don’t mind, I’m staying underdressed.” Hannibal laughs to Will’s words as he pours them both coffee and hands Will his. He leans over and kisses the bruise on his face gently. Hannibal knows Randall's strength well, that could have been him.

“And why would I mind?” Hannibal asks he sets the plates down and takes his place at the table. “They found another Ripper victim this morning.” Will pauses for a second and looks at Hannibal over his coffee before taking a sip. He keeps his eyes focused on Hannibal's expression as he swallows and sets the mug down.

“Really?” He asks unbothered as he picks up his silverware. " _This_ morning?"

“Now you can understand why I do not want you walking around late at night." Will glances up as Hannibal continues. "I’m just relieved you only ran into a mugger and not the Ripper.” Will nods slowly as he slices up his sausage, beginning to eat.

“Guess I’m lucky.” Hannibal subtly studies Will’s expression, unable to conclusively tell if Will truly did murder him or if he is simply projecting the dark desires he wishes Will would succumb to onto him. 

“Please do not press that luck, Will.” Hannibal says, taking a small bite of one of his murder victims. “If I lost you to the hands of a madman it would destroy me.”

"And if someone took you from me I would be as equally destroyed. Remember that." A chill runs through Hannibal's bones as he keeps his calm facade.

"I could never forget."

After breakfast Hannibal wraps Will's knuckles again, both are uncharacteristically silent. He feels Will's eyes flick over his facial expression as Hannibal focuses on caring for his loved one. Hannibal works slow, wrapping the bandage around each finger. His mind cannot stop from picturing Will killing Randall. He hopes so desperately that it was him, another serial killer to compete with would be a bore. Did Randall attack him for dating Hannibal and then Will killed him in self defense? Seems a likely course of action. Or, a more exciting idea, did Will hunt Randall down, purposely setting out to murder him?

"The gala is this weekend, correct?" Will asks, stirring Hannibal from his internal questions. "I cannot wait to see your art." Hannibal smiles as he finishes wrapping Will's hands. 

"I am certainly looking forward to you seeing it. The suit fits, correct?" Will nods. 

"Eerily well, especially when you didn't measure me," Hannibal grins a little before inspecting his hands. "Do you want to make sure it's perfect?" Hannibal shakes his head.

"I want you to surprise me." Hannibal leans down and gently kisses each bandaged knuckle. Maybe Will already has.


	16. Chapter 16

Hannibal is standing beside his drawing as it hangs on the gallery wall, the size of the canvas towering over many others. Just like the other artists he stands beside his work; explaining his process, answering questions, and most importantly- accepting compliments. While Hannibal happily indulges in discussing his work his eyes flick over the crowd, looking for Will. Will has to finish his class, go home to change, and then arrive. 

He should be here at any moment. 

A feeling Hannibal hasn’t felt in years grows inside him; anxiety. He is laying all his cards out onto the table, laying them out for Will to see, so he can see him for what he truly is. This morning could become the very last day the two ever spend together, if Will rejects him. 

Hannibal adjusts his collar and he scans the room one more time, and almost as if he had sensed his arrival, Will walks through the open gallery doors. The suit Hannibal bought him frames his figure perfectly, even wearing a classic black suit he looks stunning. His hair is curly and styled, he spent time on his appearance, no doubt. And the bruise around his eye is almost too faint for anyone but Hannibal to notice. 

Hannibal smiles softly watching Will scan the gallery floor, looking for Hannibal. Their eyes lock and a warm smile floods Will’s face as he makes his way through the crowd. 

“Sorry I’m late.” Will says as he approaches Hannibal, Will plants a chaste kiss on his cheek. 

“Never apologize. You’re here, that is all that matters.” Will smiles at him and then turns to the canvas. The whole room seems to melt away, leaving only Will and his drawing. 

Hannibal watches Will’s eyebrows furrow with confusion, the final product looking nothing like the sketches he has seen. Will glances at Hannibal before looking back at the drawing. 

The drawing, towering in size over most of his competition, displays the myth of Medusa. The drawing shows the interior of Athena’s temple, where Poseidon decided to rape the priestess. The focal point of the drawing is Athena, who is killing Poseidon. 

Her hands wrapped tight around his neck as the god's face twists in agony. Her sword is pierced through one of his hands to hold him in place and her foot pins down the other hand, both mangled and broken. Medusa can be seen in the background watching, still bruised and teary eyed. Her hair snakeless, hanging in loose, frizzy brown curls.

Athena is full of rage; her brow pinched together and her teeth bared. Hannibal drew her with a delicate masculinity; high, defined cheekbones and her hair pulled into a bun, which gave her the appearance of short hair. There is a protectiveness in her stance, not protective of the sanctity of her temple, but of Medusa- a woman who worshipped and loved the goddess. And in Hannibal’s mind the goddess loved her back, who wouldn’t love the one who worships you?

Hannibal watches Will swallow as he studies the drawing, so focused on Will Hannibal doesn’t notice an art professor approach him. 

“You seem to have taken quite a bit of creative liberties with the original myth, Mr. Lecter.” Hannibal broke his gaze towards Will and turned to look at the professor with a manufactured smile. 

“I have always been drawn to the myth of Medusa. Although, I began to notice she was almost always vilified in artistic depictions, like in the original myth. Medusa is punished for an attack against her, and her rapist is allowed to walk freely. I wanted to correct that.” Hannibal can feel Will’s eyes on him, boring a hole into him. “Instead of punishing Medusa, Athena protects and avenges her. A more desirable and fitting ending.” The professor nods, takes in more details of his work before walking off to the next students piece. 

Hannibal meets Will’s eye contact and he can barely breathe. Will takes a step towards him and takes a hold of his hand, Hannibal smiles for a moment before Will starts to lead him through and then out of the gallery. Whatever Will is about to say to him requires privacy.

* * *

Will pulls Hannibal into an empty classroom as soon as they get out of the gallery, he closes the door behind him and looks over at Hannibal. Hannibal studies his face, curious about what is to come next. Anger, betrayal, sadness, disgust, or fear- even possibly a mixture of all. Will loosens the tie around his neck, his eyes dart over Hannibal’s facial features. He has to swallow a couple times before he can speak.

“It was you.” He whispers under his breath. “You did it.” Hannibal tilts his head and looks at him, keeping a smile at bay. 

“What are you accusing me of, Will?” 

“You,” he smooths a hand over his hair. “You killed him.” Hannibal simply stands before him, letting the smile find its way to his lips. He doesn’t deny Will’s accusation. Will’s eyes are wide as he stares at him. “Say something.” His words are even softer. 

“Would you like me to lie to you?” Will shakes his head. “Then why must I explain what you already know.” Will brings both his shaky hands up to his head, rubbing his temples. “I wanted you to know.” He takes a step towards Will and Will eyes him quickly, dropping his hands from his head.

“Why?” Will looks up at him, half of his face is drowned in the darkness of the classroom. “Why tell me?”

“I wanted you to know how much I care for you, how much I love you.” Softness washes over his face, finally hearing the words he wanted to hear for so long. Then his eyebrows pinch together with anger and he shoves Hannibal away from him. 

“Don’t think you can say ‘I love you’ and get out of this that easily.” He snaps at him. “You know I have an overactive imagination,” Hannibal studies him carefully. “And when I saw him dead on the news I imagined a possibility of you doing it. I imagined being you, and killing him. But I pushed it away, I thought I was spiraling. Like I was when-” He stops his words, pieces must be clicking together in his brain. 

“That night when you arrived home at two in the morning you were coming back from killing him, weren’t you?” Hannibal nods. “Did you go to your lecture and actually leave when you texted me?” He nods again. “Why did you need five hours with him?” Will whispers the last question.

“I wanted him to suffer.” He locks eyes with Will. “I wanted him to know why I was doing what I was.”

“You talked to him?” Disgust flows over Will’s face and Hannibal tries to push from his mind how he was able to get inside his dorm.

“Yes, I talked to him while I tortured him.”

“Did you do that to the others?” Hannibal looks at him, hiding his impressed expression. All his possible lies and explanations swim in his mind, he could easily tell Will he took advantage of the Ripper’s spree and killed only his attacker. He studied the murders in his classes and is knowledgeable on the human body, he could lie his way out of it. His survival instinct doesn’t kick in like it should, his detailed plans don't beg to be followed. 

“No.” The realization that Hannibal has not killed one, but multiple people washes over Will’s face. “Those were an occupational hazard. I could not kill your attacker at random, they would look for a motive.” He takes a step towards Will. “I was sure they could place him at that party, with you. I was sure there would be eyewitnesses to how unwell you seemed, how you left with him.” Hannibal takes another step towards Will, who stays still. “Once they would eliminate you as the killer, I would be the next suspect.” Will nods slowly, understanding all of Hannibal’s words. 

“You killed the others to get away with killing your target. I guess it’s smart. And you mirrored the Ripper’s pattern of killing to get your crimes swept in with his.” Hannibal doesn’t say anything and Will stiffens slightly. He stares up at him, unable to ask what he wants. 

“Go ahead,” Hannibal says softly. “Ask.”

“Are you the Chesapeake Ripper?” Hannibal lowers his face closer to Will’s, able to feel his warm exhales on his skin. 

“Yes.” He breathes out, watching Will’s chest heave. “I am not going to hurt you, I'm-.”

“Have you thought about it?” Will cuts him off, staring intensely into his gaze. 

“I have fantasized about killing you, yes.” Will manages to stay calm that close to him, and it thrills Hannibal.

“How would you do it?” Will whispers, catching Hannibal off guard for the first time that night. “How would you kill me?”

“With my hands. I used to imagine killing you, or in the process of, and it would bleed into pleasure. It surprised me.” Will raises an eyebrow, asking for more details. “I would imagine strangling the life from you, my hands wrapped around your throat. Your airy gasps would morph into moans. I would stop, and I would kiss you. And in my fantasies you kissed me back.” Will stares at him, face slightly red and eyes wide. Hannibal cannot tell if he is terrified or aroused. 

“They said the Ripper took body parts and organs. They never could figure what he did with them.” Hannibal smiles softly as he gazes down at him, he watches Will’s face twist as he thinks. He meets Hannibal’s eyes again, but they flick down to his lips and then back up to his eyes. “We were eating them. Weren’t we?” His smile only grows, Will blinks below him, processing all the new information. It quickly turns to rage. 

“Did you feed me him?” Will snaps and Hannibal’s gaze turns inquisitive. “My attacker.” Will’s jaw is clenched as he looks up at Hannibal. 

“I pondered over doing so, but he currently resides in our freezer.” A sigh of relief leaves Will’s lips, his breath softly kissing Hannibal’s face, Will still hasn’t moved away from him an inch. “I do not believe he is even worthy of being eaten by me, and as much as I would love to serve him to you, I wanted it to be your choice.”

“Have you,” Will pauses to swallow. Hannibal cannot stop his gaze from fluttering down to his throat, watching his muscles move subtly. “Have you thought about eating me?”

“I thought about how you would probably be the most exquisite thing I would ever taste.” Will’s eyes gleam up at him; a mixture of fear and pride. “In most of my fantasies I couldn’t keep my hunger at bay enough to take the time to cook you. I’d devour pieces of you raw.” Will shudders, his eyes ask the question- ‘what pieces?’. Hannibal moves closer to him, his breath hitting Will’s ear and neck. “I would fantasize about tearing flesh from your neck, as you lay beneath me, and eating you raw.” Hannibal pulls away from his neck and looks down at him. Will is growing more flushed and his eyes echo confusion, not at Hannibal’s words, but at his own reactions to them. 

“I always dreamed of one day, once I had the proper space, keeping someone alive and eating them slowly. It would be a shame to kill you and then eat you, I would miss your company.” Hannibal cups the side of Will’s face as he continues speaking. " That’s what I thought I desired.”

“Thought?” His voice is breathy and barely audible.

“I no longer want you on my table, at least not in a way that is severely detrimental to your health.” A quick scene flashes in Hannibal’s mind- himself carving a small piece of flesh from Will’s upper thigh. Will either enduring the rawness of the pain or numbed by medication; whichever he would prefer. Hannibal slices a small chunk away, placing it on a plate to be cooked and consumed later. He leans down and kisses where it once was, licking up the blood that falls from the wound. He cleans and bandages it and then kisses Will with a bloody mouth. 

Will could keep Hannibal’s hunger fed forever like that. 

“I want you across from me, indulging with me.” He continues, thumb dragging softly over Will’s skin. “Would you still like to sit at my table, Will?” 

Will stares up at him, possibly imagining what their future could hold. He can say no, Hannibal will allow it, even though it will break his heart. 

“No more lies?” He asks in a whisper. 

“No more lies.” Hannibal repeats. Will looks deep into his eyes and then nods slowly and warmth flows through Hannibal’s body. Will grabs ahold of Hannibal’s tie, pulling his face closer to him on his own accord. 

“When I say ‘no more lies’, Hannibal, I mean it.” Will has found his voice again, it slips into the dark tone that Hannibal desires to hear from Will’s lips. “You tell me when you are leaving for a kill, you tell me who you are planning to kill, and who we are eating.” _We,_ the word echoes in Hannibal’s head. “No more sneaking around.” Hannibal nods, for all of his academic knowledge his tongue cannot find words. His mind is clouded by the warmth he feels. 

“ _I_ lied earlier.” Will continues and Hannibal keeps their eye contact, intrigued. “I believed you could have been the Ripper long before that night." A smile grows across Hannibal's lips. "You fit the profile I heard my friends talk about- charming, intelligent, with medical knowledge, a student. It all fit. I watched you slice our food for dinner and sharpen your pencils with a scalpel, knifes fit perfectly into your hands. The most recent murders fit with times I wasn’t with you, and then you didn’t come home until two in the morning. And then you said you have done so much for me, and will do anything I ask. I asked for him to be gone, and then he was. I could no longer deny what I thought."

Hannibal smiles lovingly down at him, still cupping his face. “You weren’t scared.”

“I was a little shaken when I noticed that some of the victims looked like me." Will pauses to let out a shaky exhale, his breath hot on Hannibal's face. "I wasn’t scared but I was weary. Until that night you choked me. I read that asphyxiation was used in many of the Ripper’s crimes, and I bore my throat for you.”

“You were testing me.” Hannibal’s smile only grows as he drops his hand from Will’s face. “Curious to see what I would do.”

“I should have been scared, terrified even. You could have killed me right then, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to get away from you.” His voice has gone soft again. “And I was shaken, until you touched me. Then all my unsteadiness slipped away from me, I can’t explain it.” 

“You are remarkable.” Is all Hannibal can say. “You saw me, the version of me you thought was the truth, and you stayed.” 

“I’m staying.” He whispers, pulling Hannibal’s tie further to meet his lips. For once in his life, Hannibal is stunned and unable to kiss back against the softness of Will’s affection. Will pulls away slowly, looking up at him. Will cups his face with both hands, thumbs wiping away what Hannibal realizes are tears, feeling the wetness spread across his skin. 

_He sees me, and he’s staying._

“I told you I wanted to thank the Ripper.” Will says simply, he presses his lips lightly against Hannibal’s again. “Thank you.” He whispers into his mouth, this time Hannibal kisses him back. Hannibal rests his hands on Will's waist, holding him close as Will's arms snake around his neck. Hannibal only pulls away when his lungs burn from lack of air. He would have gladly died right then, in Will's embrace, if he would have let him. “How will I ever repay you?” He asks breathlessly against his lips when they break the kiss, his lips trail up his cheek kissing over the tear streak.

“You staying with me is all the repayment I could ever ask for.” Will pulls away but stays close, studying his face.

 _“I don’t want to open Tattlecrime one day and see you.”_ Will’s words ring in his mind, they had both been thinking about Hannibal being arrested. Will finally drops Hannibal's die and smooths it back against his shirt. 

“You deserve more than that. It would be naive of me to assume the person who tried to attack you is still alive, wouldn’t it?”

“I only escaped unharmed because I killed him.” Pure happiness flows through him, Will had confirmed what he hoped was true. “I may be the Ripper, but I did not kill that poor boy who was stretched over the skeleton in the history department.” Will blinks a little, recovering from the shift in topic. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

“He tried to attack me,” Will whispers. Hannibal remembers that night he came home smelling of blood, assuming his split knuckles were the only source. “Before he did was rambling about you,” Hannibal tilts his head as Will continues. “Going on and on about how I would never understand you, never be enough for you. That you were meant to be his.” Will’s jaw clenches at the memory

“I intended to only hit him once, enough to get away.” Hannibal’s breath hitches in his throat at the knowledge that Will attacked first. “But once I did I couldn't stop. When it was all over he was dead at my feet. I didn’t know what to do.” Hannibal tilts his head, staring down at him with awe. “I thought you were the Ripper and I thought…” He trails off. Hannibal looks at him trying to picture Will mutilating the body once he had murdered him, his mind swims with beautiful images of Will’s brutality. He should get Will to describe it sometime, he would love to draw it. 

“If I saw a murder that was not mine you would be able to see my facade crack.” Hannibal says, finishing Will’s sentence.

“And you didn’t. That made me panic.”

“You hid it as well as I hid mine.” Hannibal smiles softly at how similar they are, how absolutely perfect he is. “If you assumed I was the Ripper, why not call me when this happened. I could have taken care of it for you, you wouldn’t have had to bloody your hands with mutilation.” 

“I considered it. But if you weren’t the Ripper I would not only be telling my boyfriend I killed someone but also accusing him of being a serial killer. I couldn’t risk that.” 

“I am relieved you didn’t.” Will looks up at him, with growing confusion. “When I got over the anger of them calling an amateur killing my own, I began to closely inspect it. And I was quite impressed, I saw potential and understanding. I read it as a first kill, a first display. I saw it as yours, and hoped it truly was you.” Quick panic crosses over Will’s face. “However, the cops will not. They will see the brutality and assume it was me. At the very least they will never assume you did it, as long as you left no evidence.”

“I’ve taken criminalistic classes, I was careful.” Hannibal stares down at him and hopes he was. “You were impressed?” Will eyes, as filled with darkness as they are, shine brightly. 

“Why wouldn’t I be? I killed someone for you and you killed someone for me. Your kill and display was magnificent, extremely. I cannot wait to see how you will grow, and what you will become.” Will smiles up at him. “What applies to me also applies to you, no more lies.” Will nods and Hannibal leans down to press a soft kiss on his lips.

“No more lies." Will repeats. "We should get back.” He walks towards the door and reaches his hand out, and Hannibal takes it. “Are you going to kill the judges if you don’t win?” Will jokes as he opens the door.

“No, but I will imagine it.” He smiles brightly as he follows Will back to the gallery, weaving their way to Hannibal’s drawing. “I normally donate my finished work to the art department.” Hannibal says as they stand in front of it, side by side.

“How charitable.” Will replies, he had grabbed a glass of champagne from a nearby waiter and was sipping it. 

“But I think I will keep this one, hang it in our living room.”

“Or the bedroom.” Hannibal gazes over at Will, as he looks at the drawing. “If some furniture gets rearranged around I’m sure we can make room.” For once Hannibal doesn’t care about winning, he watches Will’s eyes flick over the canvas, taking in all the details. Hannibal runs his thumb over one of Will’s fingers, their hands still embraced. The room feels like it is slipping away from the two of them, letting them exist in a world made just for them. 

Will glances over at Hannibal, with a smile no one else could give Hannibal if they knew what Will knows. 

“It’s beautiful.” Will says. He isn’t talking about the art before him, and both men know it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've made it to the end, I hope you enjoyed it! TYSM for reading!


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